Forbidden
by Eletha Landon
Summary: Chloe- Just another sophomore college student with big plans while trying to find her way through life. Taking her general courses before shipping off to the university of her dreams, Chloe finds herself struggling in calculus by a distraction she never expected to have. She, of course, blames him & his strikingly mysterious jade eyes. The worst of the situation? He was forbidden.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note- Hey! Okay, so I am EXTREMELY excited to start this story. Something **_**way**_** new here and hopefully never done before in the history of Darkest Powers fanfiction! I consulted my dearest suzi1811 before giving this a shot. For the most part, I'm almost co-writing this with her to help me make some of the ideas more sound, but I feel like it will be a good challenge and have an interesting twist. :) So, this story is for you Suzi-Q!**

**Note: This will only be rated T, but a really, **_**really**_** strict T. Citrus and language for sure, HOWEVER, if there is enough demand for it, I will bump this story up to an M-rating. It's up to you guys. :)**

**Before I'm asked by a million people, there will be no powers in this fic. I feel that there aren't enough AU/AH out there and that's why I have so many of them. :p**

**Anyways! Please enjoy!**

**Forbidden**

**Prologue**

My mind was no longer anywhere appropriate like it had been a mere fifteen minutes before class had started. Where my thoughts should have been focused on the potential score of my recently taken midterm, they were elsewhere, causing my body to react in ways that were deemed unacceptable.

My brain trained my gaze as I stared at his hands. Such large, strong hands that made the idea of their rough touch send unpleasantly pleasant flutters through my stomach and shivers down my spine. My fingers clutched at each other tightly as I held my hands in my lap, afraid of what they would do if I left them untended as I caught a glimpse of the light, smooth exposed skin of his lower arm, just below the fabric of his sleeve he had rolled up past his elbows. I felt my cheeks and neck grow warm as he rolled his shoulders subconsciously. It seemed to be in a manner that attracted my curiosity to the idea that he may have been sore from working on those gloriously broad shoulders of his and the toned biceps that his shirt hugged just so. My legs bounced anxiously beneath my desk as he drew near and I blinked feverously to rid myself of the thoughts that willed- demanded- him to.

Finally, there he was. No longer striding idly around the classroom, but standing there before me, tempting me to meet his gaze though I refused to. Instead, I concentrated on the even lines of his strict jaw and the vibrantly dull shade of his short, jet black hair that teased the back of his thick, masculine neck. My eyes flickered to his plump lower lip as it parted from its other half, causing me to swallow hard and lose anything I tried desperately to recollect. Mind blanking, I pleaded to whatever higher power that I wasn't simply drooling.

"Chloe," He rumbled lowly. I felt my insides melt at the way my name sounded as it slipped off of his tongue. His tone was laced with deep texture, the sound similar to that of a purring, gentle motor. I resisted the urge to sigh contentedly and found myself breaking my own pact, gaze drawn by a luscious and hypnotizing color.

I met his jade eyes.

"Are you alright, Chloe? You look flushed." He murmured this quietly as if wary of anyone else hearing. I was so lost in a world of crisp and vivacious greens and a flurry of mixed and hidden emotions that I had lost my voice. I nodded shakily in response for fear of incoherent muck spilling from my mouth if I were to open it and attempt to verbally answer.

The storm in his emerald orbs seemed to settle at this and his aura changed so quickly that I wouldn't be surprised to find that I had whiplash later.

"Good. Then I need you to come see me after class."

My brain filtered through responses as he spoke. All were similar to, _'Yes, of course. I'd love to talk to you after class-' _until they were interrupted by him placing a sheet of paper down on my desk. I followed his movement, curiously driven and instantly regretted it.

What I saw caused me to slouch in my seat as if I had been rocketed back to Earth from the moon, shattering my illicit fantasy and slamming me roughly back into reality where I was forced to remember where I was, who _he_ was and exactly what was going on here.

I peeled my eyes away from the horrid, bold red_** F**_ on my midterm test and found his disappointed stare. The naively nervous butterflies in my stomach shriveled and became an uncomfortable squirming sensation as I tried to find anything else to look at that wasn't that dissatisfied look that he was giving me. It made me feel sick and nauseous while the lump forming in my throat almost rendered me incapable of giving him a real- fairly deflated- response to his previously asked question.

Who was I kidding? What other reason would _he_ have to meet with me after class? What disillusioned desire had I fallen into this time? Had I been hoping for a secret and fleeting rendezvous before the next class started? Or a confession that, though he knew as much as I did that it was wrong, he felt the same as I did, ever since our eyes clashed the first day of class?

How childish was I, really?

No. He just wanted to scold me for failing his Second Year Calculus Midterm.

"Yes, Professor Souza."

**Holy shit, right?! Bet you guys didn't see that one coming. :p Now you know this is going to have an interesting turn out. Honestly, I'm just going with the flow here on this story, but some comments and critic would be appreciated. :)**

**Review!**

**Please read and review of Beautifully Cursed as well!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note- Wow, wow, wow, guys! Thanks so much for the warm welcome to this story. I'm glad to hear that a lot of people like it so far. Suzi and I have been conspiring and I think we've both come up with a pretty concrete plot. However, I also want to incorporate what you guys want to see out of this story. If you have any ideas, throw them at me!**

**Also, for future reference, these chapters should be shorter for easier and quicker updates, as well as a longer story. **

**Anyways, hope you guys enjoy! :D**

**Forbidden**

**Professor Souza**

I had never really been that girl that would get distracted and perform poorly all because of a guy. Of course, I've had a few boyfriends, experienced my fair share of betrayals and broken a couple hearts of my own. But, I had never allowed that to deter me from my ambitions and goals. Even at a young age, I had always known what I wanted and never faltered to strive for it.

I sought after becoming the youngest, female film director to step out of New York State. My dreams were to have even the greatest critics praise my work and to have my face printed on MovieMaker Magazine for the entire country to see. Aside from the romanticized fame of it all, I wanted to share my ideas with the world. I desired to create something that someone would see and think, _'Wow, what an incredibly portrayed story._' And for that, I wanted to attend Juilliard.

I wasn't _exactly _going to be able to major in the department of my choice by attending Juilliard, but it was definitely the shrewdest step to get my foot into the door of the cinematic universe. Unfortunately, Dad never really agreed to my aspirations. He had always wanted me to attend New York University and major in some sort of business degree like he and Mom had done decades ago. It wasn't that he was unsupportive of my goals. He just simply feared that I wouldn't be able to make a living out of it.

Mom would have been different. She had gotten in a wreck when I was six years old and would never be able to express her opinion on my decision to attend Juilliard. But, deep down, I just knew that she would have pushed me to strive for what I wanted, whether she thought it was best for my financial future or not. She wouldn't have wanted me to stop dreaming.

Due to a 4.0 grade point average and an, _'Outstanding Achievement in the Arts,' _award, I was granted an amazing scholarship my senior year of high school worth two whole years of tuition to any school of my choice. Dad and I sat down and had an unnecessarily long discussion on how to responsibly use the money, him in favor of his business degree and myself rooting for the arts major. Finally, we compromised. The deal was that I was to attend NYU for my first two years- at his expense- and get my general courses for a degree out of the way. In that time, I would be able to work on my audition piece to get into Juilliard, where I would use the scholarship for the remainder of my four years. If I wasn't accepted, then I would finish out at NYU.

NYU was a good backup plan and the idea of it kept Dad occupied for the time being. However, I had my sights set and I was going to do whatever it took to get myself accepted. I had been working on a particular scene from a play I had developed back in high school. The very play that won me the Outstanding Achievement in the Arts award. Since then, I had been tweaking the part here and there to meet my growing and developing writing style, determined to create something so attention grabbing that Juilliard wouldn't be able to pass me up.

Of course, all the talent scouts and school directors really cared about was how I would perform the piece. But, that was why my plan was full proof. As much as I hated it, I constantly thanked the heavens for Mom starting me in acting when I was just four years old, as I would not only be writing and directing the scene, but starring in it as well.

I wasn't the only one riding on this plan to catch their big break, though. Nate Bozian, my best and closest friend since the ninth grade, was also helping me with the audition piece. We both shared a common goal, though, he was more attracted to the acting spotlight of cinema and was using the opportunity to co-star in my scene as his own audition into Juilliard. He was, by far, a way better actor than I could ever hope to be and we often joked that, in the future, I would star him in my movies as much as Tim Burton starred Johnny Depp.

After nearly two years of perfecting a mere five minute scene, auditions were just a couple months away and everything seemed to be falling through without a hitch.

That is, until I decided at the beginning of my first term as a sophomore to take just _one_ more math credit- for good measure- and walked into the calculus class that threatened on a daily basis to make or break my future.

And I completely and bitterly blamed _him_.

Professor Souza nodded in agreement to my answer and continued on to the next student, silently returning everyone's midterms as gasps of either elation or defection followed. By the sounds that continuously filled the room, I found that there were more who passed than failed.

I glowered in frustration, my eyes glued on Professor Souza's back. His sleek, strictly defined, muscular back. It just wasn't fair. How was any girl supposed to work around the fact that the math teacher was a gorgeous, young, extremely attractive, quiet and self-secluded, teenage dream boat? It was the ultimate high school cliché personified.

He was tall. Extremely so. Maybe near 6'5" and he was rugged. His stature was that of which puberty paid him kindly. Big. Not overweight, as his teasingly tight, dark wash jeans and white, button-down dress shirt so blatantly advertised. Muscular. Lean, drool-worthy muscle protruded from every bone on his body, taunting the female population as well as any wannabe bodybuilder. His facial features were those to marvel, with a clean cut jaw line- clad in a shadow of stubble as if he had forgotten to shave that morning- high cheek bones and a slight pout to the cupid's bow of his pink upper lip. His nose was slightly crooked and the many rumors that surrounded Professor Souza hinted that it was broken in one of many fights he was caught in- that or he started it himself- during his teenage years. His ebony hair was luscious and full, a disarray as pieces flew here and there in an almost purposefully messy manner. The length teased his slender brows and tickled his sharp cheeks, making him look 21 instead of his late twenties that I suspected him to be.

And then there were his eyes. Striking, sharp, barred of emotion and jewel-like green. The color of pine after a summer's evening rain. I remembered so vividly catching them for the first time and knowing that, if I hadn't met those beautiful jade orbs first, I wouldn't be stuck in the current predicament I had dragged myself into.

Crushing on my college, calculus Professor.

Thinking about that first day brought heat to my cheeks and fueled my current animosity towards said heartthrob. It was something that I desperately wished I could just forget as I moved on with my life, Professor Souza left behind as a distant yet, admittedly pleasant memory.

_Starting my sophomore year wasn't a great feat nor that big of a deal to me. If anything, it just showed me that my time limit to finish writing my audition piece was wearing thin and I was entirely too focused on it to be deemed healthy. I wasn't worried about anything else but the play in the works because, judging by the grades of my freshman year, I would do just fine in keeping my grades high whilst keeping a grip on my scholarship that depended greatly on my performance. _

_So, when I walked into calculus the first day of term, I was oblivious to just about the entirety of the world, concentration solely set on the script in my hands. I maneuvered my way to the back of the class and fell into my seat, eyes trimming through edits and possibilities of both what was already written and what had yet to be done. _

_I didn't pay any mind to the rest of the student body clambering into class or even notice that Nate took the seat next to mine. I allowed the low, baritone voice that called the class to order and started lecturing on about reviewing most of what we should have been taught in high school to become a distant buzzing noise in the back of my head. I was lost in my own world, the parts Nate and I constantly performed together running through my memory like a film loop as I picked apart each word, each movement and stage position._

_It had to take Nate roughly elbowing me in the ribs to be drawn back to Earth and hear that my name was being called when I looked up at him to ask what the hell his problem was._

"_Chloe Saunders."_

_My eyes bounced up to the front of the class, following the deep, annoyed rumble of the voice that called me. Only, instead of finding an irritated, middle-aged Professor- something I expected only because it was just so typical- I was met by nothing but a sea of emerald framed by a mess of onyx, rendering me speechless and awe-struck._

"_The answer please, Ms. Saunders."_

"_Green," I whispered without my own consent to speak. I instantly wished I could take the word back as it escaped my lips, a light laughter filling the classroom as it did so. I could feel my cheeks and neck grow hot as I blinked in embarrassment, brain jump-starting and assessing what had just come out of my mouth. Unfortunately, no longer focused on his bright orbs, I was then struck with the reality that, not only were my teacher's eyes beautiful, but _he_ was beautiful._

"_Art is being taught in one of the other campuses, Chloe. If you're in the wrong classroom, you should have spoken up at the beginning of class," Professor Souza stated monotonously, his sharp, crisp orbs holding mine at his mercy. Irritated, he lifted a clipboard from his desktop for me to see and continued._

"_However, you're on my roster. So I'd prefer you to pay attention to _my_ class and discuss the colors of the rainbow with Professor Banks another time."_

_Several more laughs erupted from the surrounding students, but, surprisingly, I didn't care. I was too busy drinking in the sight of the man that was Professor Souza as he waited expectantly for my reply. I watched, hypnotized by his large hands, as he lowered the clipboard and the edge clicked impatiently against his desk, snapping me out of my trance. _

_I took in a shuddering breath and glanced at the chalkboard, where SOHCAHTOA was scribbled above a right triangle in which Professor Souza was questioning how to find the Sin of angel A._

"_T-the answer is o-opposite over hypotenuse," I mumbled, anxious under his hard gaze. His stare was so intense, I felt as if he were looking right through me instead of demanding an answer to a trigonometry question I had learned in the 11__th__ grade. Finally, he sighed, closing his eyes in clear annoyance before turning his back to me and writing my response on the board. _

"_Correct. Let's have the right answer the first time, Ms. Saunders, if you truly know what you're doing."_

Turns out, as I inspected my midterm, the first question was that of which he had asked me to answer that very day. And it was one of the few that I had gotten right.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, I laid the test flat on my desk again and drummed my fingers against the cheap wood in aggravation. How was I going to makeup enough work to keep this from affecting the hold on my scholarship?

Of course, that should have been the most important question running through my mind and not whether Professor Souza thought if I was not only a complete ditz, but now an utter failure as well.

A low whistle sounded to my left and I glanced up towards Nate who was wearing a small, sympathetic smile. The gesture brought out the softer features of his face, giving him that little boy look I had grown accustomed to since I had met him our freshman year.

However, Nate had all but entirely grown out of his baby face. Under a mess of ginger hair and a crop of mischievous freckles, Nate had matured into his sharp features and deep, blue eyes. He was tall and lean and had notably become more and more popular with the girls after his puberty smack down. It was surprising to me, really, that he didn't have more serious girlfriends other than a few first dates or the friends he had taken to all our high school dances. Whenever I chastised him about it, he would blush, laugh and mumble something about waiting for the right girl.

"Tough break, Chloe." He whispered, not wanting to be heard by or interrupt Professor Souza who was now writing the newest lesson on the board. "I thought for sure you'd at least get a D since you don't do _too_ bad on your homework."

"Some friend you are," I muttered, shoving at his arm as he snickered at me. "Where's the support or the false, _'You'll do better next time,'_ speech?"

"Let's face it. You've always sucked at math. It's a miracle you were able to climb your way out of high school with all those A's." Nate smirked. I frowned and made to throw back my own remark before Professor Souza interrupted.

"Mr. Bozian, perhaps you want to take some responsibility for Chloe's poor performance on her midterm as it's clear that whatever you have to say is more important than the fact that she should be studying free of distraction."

"No, Professor." Nate muttered through clenched teeth, his blue eyes flashing angrily while Professor Souza met him with a scowl.

"Then pay attention. You're grade could use an improvement of its own."

"Asshole," Nate mumbled under his breath when Professor Souza returned to the chalkboard. I simply gave him a shrug and turned away, a slight smile touching my lips as a thought occurred to me.

In less than thirty minutes, I would be alone with Professor Souza for the first time since term started. For that, I felt slightly jubilated. Opposite of what I should have been feeling, which was to start preparing for the onslaught of a disappointed lecture.

I pushed aside the miniscule nagging in the back of my mind suggesting that I was slowly losing sight of my priorities and began to copy down Professor Souza's small, messy script into my notebook for later study material.

**I know not much happened in this chapter, but the information is necessary because this isn't going to be just a short story crammed into ten chapters like BSL. **

**Please review! I love you guys' input so much and it motivates me to update faster. ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note- In a spur of the moment, I decided to draw a sketch of 'Professor Souza.' It's a work in progress and I will post it on my Facebook page once it's finished. I also have a drawing of a scene from chapter seven of BSL there. Please friend me and check it out!**

**Would anyone else like to create their own rendition of Professor Souza? Who knows, maybe I'll make a contest out of it? If anyone is interested, PM me. :)**

**I've had several requests to have a chapter in Professor Souza's POV, however, I'm going to hold off until later chapters for such occasion. Also, still debating the change to M-rating and the addition to lemons to an already citrusy plot I have planned.**

**Anyways, please enjoy!**

**Forbidden**

**Proposition**

There was a bustle of noise as the bell sounded, everyone immediately leaping from their seats and shuffling through their book-bags before they exited Professor Souza's classroom.

I, however, remained rooted to my desk, my heart beating so fast I was afraid of it leaping from my chest and departing with the rest of the student body.

Honestly, what did I have to be so nervous about? If anything, I should have been wary of the, _'You better improve your scores or you can kiss my class and your scholarship goodbye, Ms. Saunders,'_ speech I was about to get reamed with. Instead I was worried about making myself look even more imprudent in front of Professor Souza.

But, it _really_ shouldn't matter what he thought of me. He was just my teacher.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and bounced back from my inner anxiety attack to meet Nate's perplexed gaze.

"Class is over, Spacey. Come on. We have lunch at Michael's Diner, remember?"

I gave Nate an apologetic look- part of me sincerely disappointed about missing out on my favorite lunch stop- and said, "Can't." I lifted up my failure of a midterm to remind him. "Professor Souza said he wanted to talk to me about this after class."

Nate frowned. I noticed briefly that his eyes flickered up to the front of the classroom, giving Professor Souza's back a hard look as he erased logarithms from the chalkboard. As quick as it came on, the look was gone, and Nate's attention was mine again.

"Should I stay-"

"No!" I blurted, realizing belatedly that it would come across as suspicious. I coughed unnecessarily and tried again, calmer.

"No, that's okay. I'm a big girl, Nate. I can handle myself."

It took a minute and a reassuring smile on my part, but, finally, Nate nodded and smiled back.

"Are we rehearsing in my dorm later, then?" He asked.

"Sounds about right."

"Alright. I'll see you in a bit, Chloe." With that and one more quick glance in the Professor's direction, Nate turned away and filed out behind the last of the students.

A shuddered breath and a few fumbling attempts to pack up my belongings later, I was hesitantly making my way up to Professor Souza's desk, mind racing through all the possibilities of what I would say, though, I doubted there would be much of a conversation.

"Have a seat, Chloe. This is going to take a bit of time," Professor Souza said, his back still turned to me while he shuffled through his file cabinet. I swallowed loudly and grabbed a chair from the closest desk, seating myself in it as I tried desperately to calm my racing heart.

There was this thing about Professor Souza that wasn't simply that he was just good to look at. And that happened to be one of the main reasons why I was so tentative about the idea of talking to him. He was smart. Really smart. I was honestly surprised to discover this upon listening to one of his first lectures to the class because, really, he was _only_ a calculus teacher. His vast vocabulary and way of dumbing down the most complicated of concepts left me intimidated. Compared to him, how was I supposed to come back from stating a color as the answer to a mathematical question?

After a few more seconds of him rummaging through his files, Professor Souza closed the drawer and turned in my direction. I noted that, as he took his seat, he sighed heavily and ran his fingers exhaustedly through his hair. There were many quirks like this about this man that I was too abashed to admit to knowing just by watching him during class.

For instance, whenever he lectured, Professor Souza's hands would be in his pockets and he would have a slight hunch in his figure. A fairly guarded position. There were also times I had caught the more colorful of his vocabulary when something didn't quite seem to be going his way while we had independent study in class. Most of the students would be chatting at this point and he seemed free to live in his own world at the time, able to easily express his frustrations- such as forgetting his phone or misplacing his lesson plans- without the fear of anyone hearing.

Aside from me, of course.

I seemed to notice just about everything. Like the fact that he was always eating an apple before class started as his students filed in. Or that he had a brother- or friend- by the name of Simon that he constantly talked to on his phone- again before class started- and appeared to regularly get annoyed or impatient with him.

And how could I forget that he was easily made impatient? Maybe that should have been something to worry about as well, as Professor Souza leaned slowly over his desk, elbows resting idly against the old wood and hands clasped together firmly as he finally met my eyes. With his particular kind of lenience, I should have feared the worst.

_Oh God, he's going to kick me out of the class!_

"I'm going to get straight to it. This score is pretty serious, Chloe-" He began to speak- his sweetly, rough voice threatening to deter my brain from functioning properly- but I was in such a panic of losing the credit, my scholarship and, least of importance but stupidly still of great significance to me, his respect, to allow him to continue without fighting in my own favor first.

"I know. And I feel so-" I struggled for the right word, not sure of how to best express my distress of being dropped from the class. Stupid? Pissed, maybe? Or just downright terrified? Pushing on, I allowed it to drop and stated, "I really have no excuse, but I hate that I allowed my distractions to drop me this far. I can admit that math isn't my strongest suit, but I've never been this bad. I swear, I'm not an idiot."

I was fervently looking all about as I wildly blurted this, so, when I found Professor Souza's gaze again, I was surprised to find him leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as his lips quirked minutely at the corner of his mouth. He raised an eyebrow at me and I nearly had a stroke when I depicted the hint of amusement in his eyes.

"I wasn't going to say that you're an idiot, Chloe. In fact-" He shrugged and the action brought my attention to his fingers drumming against his right bicep subconsciously. Distracted, again, I found with odd pleasure that his left hand was ring-less.

"-I think you're one of my brightest students."

"Y-you what?" I blanched, breaking away from my wrongly satisfied discovery that Professor Souza wasn't wed, to meet him with a surprised and questioning look. His expression was sincere and serious yet his eyes remained alight, calm and content. Honestly, I had always thought that Professor Souza had a very brooding and stern personality. It played him off as mysterious which made him all the more attractive. However, catching these little details- for instance, instead of going for a prudent and heavy conversation as before, where he looked tired and wary, we were now discussing in a lighter environment than that of complete professionalism- only had me falling deeper into my little crush. I surprisingly found myself relaxing, the anxiety over being face to face with the man that constantly occupied my inappropriate thoughts dwindled significantly and I couldn't help but feel welcome by this approachable trait of Professor Souza's I never knew him to have.

Professor Souza nodded as he continued to speak, his mouth just shy of something more than its emotionless straight line.

"I can agree that you're not good at math." My shoulders slacked dejectedly and I felt a sheepish and ashamed grin tug at my lips.

"But, I've seen your records and I'm aware of your potential and ambition. Unfortunately, though, Chloe," He sighed, reaching for my midterm and I obliged to hand it to him. He leafed through it, shaking his head, that disappointed aura from the beginning of class returning. "No matter how lacking your mathematical knowledge may be, your skills are far superior to this score and your scholarship is hanging on a thread because of this."

I wringed my hands together repentantly as he said this. Despite how comfortable Professor Souza had allowed me to feel, I could sense my nerves doubling back at a crippling force. This was it. He was going to drop my credit and tell me I couldn't come to his class anymore.

"Though I admit that I was previously concerned on your performance for this test, I can, at least, commend your efforts, for your answer to the first question wasn't green."

My brows knit together, perplexed by his statement. Of which, of course, was the exact opposite of what I was prepared for him to say. I caught on quickly, though, seeing as how he snorted humorously before he actually spoke.

He was teasing me.

My heart lurched uneasily and my breath caught. Professor Souza was teasing me. Joking. His green eyes bright with mirth and laughter as his lips stretched into an uneven smirk. This realization- and yet another contradicting discovery to all that I had pegged Professor Souza to be- brought color and heat to my cheeks as I rubbed self-consciously at my forearms.

"M-my head was somewhere else that day."

"Regardless," Professor Souza continued, expression sobering quickly as his serious aura returned. "You're not only going to have to get an exceptional score on following tests, but makeup quite a bit of extra credit to pick up your overall grade and keep your hold on your scholarship."

"But," I started, something about this meeting nagging at me as, honestly, it was truly unusual for this particular teacher to show concern for whether one of his students passes his course or not. "Professor Souza, you told us at the beginning of the term that our performance in class was our own business. Whether we passed or failed was on us. So, why are you discussing this with me?"

"You're right, I don't _normally_ do this. However, I can see that you're working hard and I think that merits for some help on my part. My job isn't to fail you."

"So, what do you suggest?"

"I'll give you the same deal I've given a select few of other students." Professor Souza suggested as he reached for a pen and a memorandum I had noticed him pluck from the filing cabinet he was shifting through before the meeting. He scrawled a messy signature at the bottom in his small, muddled script before passing it over to me. I took it and skimmed through its announcement as he resumed speaking.

"I'm here every Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday at four. Until your grades pick up, I'm allowing you the time for a self-paced study hall which will both give you more time for one-on-one with myself to aid you in whatever areas you find particularly troublesome, as well as supply you enough extra credit to keep this course on your record."

"Are there any more students attending right now?" I questioned after confirming that what he said was reiterated on the memorandum.

"I haven't had to request for any other student the extra study hall this term, no. You'll be here on your own if you choose, which is helpful and free of outside distractions."

_I don't know about that_, I thought as the idea of being alone with Professor Souza for the next couple of weeks filtered through my thoughts. But, I could feel myself begin to form this theory that, instead of being rendered paralyzed and unable to absorb any information while attending these study halls with him, that maybe spending more time with Professor Souza would ease a bit of the mystery and I wouldn't be so focused on trying to figure him out while I paid more attention to my work.

"I appreciate your interest in my performance, Professor. I'm so grateful for this chance," I spoke, tone heavy with hardly contained eagerness. I stood and, though I hated to formality of it, I reached out my own hand to shake his. Professor Souza gave me a curt nod, stood and grasped my hand in his firmly. I tried desperately to steady the uneven thrum of my heart as his skin made contact with mine while his large, warm hand enclosed over my own, sending a light shock shooting through my limb, and rocket a seemingly radiant heat throughout my entire being.

"I-I won't l-let you down, Professor Souza."

"I know you won't, Chloe. I wouldn't offer you this opportunity if I believed otherwise." Professor Souza's lips quirked once again, a ghost of a smile forming to match the glow in his enchanting eyes. I beamed, giddy and anxious of what was to come and reluctantly released his hand. As I turned away, my smile remained and I bid him a, _'See you Monday,' _and fled the classroom before I could start bouncing up and down with pure excitement for, not only being able to keep Professor Souza's class, but also the intriguing prospect of seeing Professor Souza outside the classroom and more often than three measly times a week.

Not a lesson anyone should be taking to heart, but I guess it paid sometimes to really suck at math.

**Alright, there you go! Hope you guys enjoyed and, if you're interested, feel free to PM me about anyone drawing their very own Professor Souza. :)**

**Make me happy? Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note- ****Thanks so much for the support, you guys are truly amazing! Also, I finished my picture of Professor Souza and, not only have I uploaded is on Alasyn Lauren's Facebook page, I have added it to my revived Deviantart page under AlasynEletha. I hope to do some more DP fan art, so please follow me if anyone else has an account. :) **

**In addition, I just want to inform you readers that I have written out a complete outline for this fic and it's going to be at least 35 chapters long. With that being said, it's going to be a novel-lengthed fiction and, since I have the outline, I promise to finish it and see the story all the way through. In the spirit of doing just that, while I've only been making weekly updates, I've been writing ahead and already have Chapter 5 and 6 done and, by the time I update chapter 5 next Saturday I should have 7 and 8 finished as well.**

**I only plan to update on Saturday or Sundays, BUT, I'd be willing to give early updates depending on the feedback. ;)**

**Anyways, please enjoy readers!**

**Forbidden**

**Pie**

Saturday mornings were usually my least favorite of the week. In all honesty, all I would want from any Saturday morning would be to sleep through it and then lazily lounge around in my dorm for the remainder of the day.

However, living on my own- despite the fact that Dad was currently paying for my college tuition, room and board, and text books- didn't come free. In addition to the deal where I attended NYU for my first two years of college, I had to convince Dad that I didn't want to depend greatly on his financial support. With his business in realty and the need to only feed two mouths, Dad was sweating money. That didn't mean that I enjoyed spending it, though.

So, my Saturday mornings were dedicated to working as a waitress at my favorite diner, as well as most of my Friday evenings and my Sunday afternoons. The majority of my tips were put towards weekly necessities while my paychecks were directly deposited into a savings account, whose purpose was to become my first down payment on a decent apartment once I started attending Juilliard.

Being as it was one of my favorite places in New York, I was at least grateful that, if I had to work on a Saturday morning, it was at Michael's Diner. When she was around, Mom used to take me here on her monthly business trips to the city and, since I had moved to New York, I nearly ate here on a daily basis. I was given a discount on off hours and was allowed free food when I actually worked. So, not a lot of my money went towards food rotting in my mini fridge back in my dorm.

I was currently opening my register at the breakfast bar stationed at the front of the diner while Nate was chatting idly on the other side about some new movie he was just dying to see. Gangster Squad, or something of that nature. It looked decent, but I wasn't a big Ryan Gosling fan. Nate, however, was a huge fan of Emma Stone.

"You should find yourself a nice, ginger girl and have freaky, ginger babies," I teased him when he finally stopped talking about the beautiful actress.

Nate blushed and rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable as he always was with this subject.

"I don't want to date her or anything." He commented defensively. "I just think it would be awesome if I ever got the chance to star in a movie with her in the future, that's all. Besides, gingers aren't really my type."

"You say the same thing about all the brunette's I've ever tried setting you up with." I deadpanned. "I swear, Nate," I started just as he was taking a sip of the complementary water I had gotten him. I smiled deviously and resumed. "With all the girls you've turned down, I'd say your type includes more testosterone."

Nate choked and started hacking up water spastically. His blue eyes bounced to mine, wide and disbelieving before he threw up his hands in an almost surrendering gesture.

"Chloe, I swear. I'm not gay."

"There's no need to be afraid of the truth," I laughed. "I'll still be your best friend no matter what. I'm not going to judge you."

"I'm serious, Chloe. Girls are my type." Nate had turned so red that his cheeks matched the color of his hair.

"Well, you don't like redheads or dark-haired girls, so what is your taste then?" I asked once I was finished laughing at him.

For a minute, it was silent between us as Nate stared intently at me. I couldn't tell if he was seriously contemplating his answer or had found something obscure on my face. I turned to take a quick glance at my reflection in the glass that protected the display case of the day's pastry specials, using the minute assessment to look for any abnormalities.

I wasn't the kind of girl that liked so much to stand out. So, there wasn't any makeup covering up the light blemishes I was already aware of invading my normally porcelain, pale skin. I didn't have very memorable features either besides my big, blue eyes and maybe my pronounced cheek bones. I had plain, wispy, strawberry-blonde hair that usually laid flat across my shoulder blades and tickled my collarbone. Only, today it was simply pulled back in a messy ponytail for work.

Aside from my face, I was a very simple girl. I couldn't be any taller than 5'2" and had a fairly underdeveloped figure. My Aunt Lauren always told me that I would be a late bloomer, just like my mother, who had finally shot up a few inches when she was in her late teens. I was already twenty, however, and most of my growing was done around the age of seventeen.

Looking on the bright side, let's just say that having a B-cup and the misfortune to still fit in junior's clothing made shopping ten times easier.

Finding nothing out of the ordinary with my daily appearance, I raised a brow back towards Nate, whose eyes were still skirting across my face while fogged with deep thought.

"Uh, Nate?"

"Blondes." He finally answered, blue orbs clearing into a crisp sea color as they met mine obstinately. I could feel myself color under his penetrating gaze, oddly anxious by his intensity.

Nate sometimes had this ability to make me feel like a young school girl whose heart he would never dare to break, just by using this insane power of his eyes. They would be soft, like a molten sapphire and hard all at once, their gaze clawing its way deep into my core and I often struggled to discover whether it made me uncomfortable or not.

Clearing my throat and breaking eye contact by escaping to the coffee pots in front of the pickup window where I had been roasting Joe for the first early morning customers, I severed the silence with a forcibly candid, "Why don't you ask out Liz or Hayley then?"

I heard an exasperated sigh and glanced back over my shoulder to find Nate's head bowed depressingly. I resisted the urge to laugh at his, _'Girl drama,_' and found solace in the fact that he was no longer staring at me as if he could see right into my soul.

"Liz hooked up with Peter over the summer and you know Corey's got claim on Hayley since, like, the tenth grade."

"Well, you better act now, Bozian," I teased, grabbing the individual plates of fresh apple pie that Marcus- the diner's cook- was beginning to slide through the pickup window. I set them on the breakfast bar before arranging them in a presentable manner in the display case.

"You're almost twenty-two and are a shoe-in to be accepted into Juilliard. This is your last chance to fraternize with NYU girls."

"Yeah, yeah," Nate mumbled, tone strangely dejected sounding. "I'm working on it."

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him reaching- not so discreetly- for a vulnerable, miniscule slice of the diner's famous apple pie.

"Hey!" I snapped, swatting at his hand and smirking when he looked at me with pouty, puppy blue eyes.

"Paying customers only."

"Come on, Chloe. No one's even here yet." Nate whined. Quite literally, not even two seconds after those words escaped his lips, the entrance bell chimed and we both glanced up to the front doors.

While Nate muttered a bitter, "You've got to be kidding me," my mouth nearly dropped to the floor and my cheeks heated as if the temperature in the diner had escalated significantly.

Unaware of the two of us staring at him, Professor Souza stepped into the diner and glanced around for a table to occupy. Only, this man didn't look like Professor Souza. He was clad in an old pair of sneakers, dark jeans and, as he stripped himself of his gray jacket and hoodie ensemble to accommodate for the November chill, he sported a tight, navy blue V-neck t-shirt that clung gloriously in all the right places. His hair was wind swept and, while he made his way up to the breakfast bar, he ran his fingers through it several times to detach rebellious strands from his luscious eyelashes.

He paid Nate and I no mind as he passed us, taking the length of the diner in long, quick strides before claiming a barstool at the other end of the counter. I watched, once again completely hypnotized by the sheer aura that resonated from Professor Souza's being, now more hooked than ever where I witnessed him in an environment that was anything but school.

He looked so young and seemingly less stressed. Zen and relaxed, in fact, as if he had nothing on his mind nor a care for the world. I couldn't quite see his eyes and their beautiful glow escaped me. I wanted so desperately to find myself lost in them that I forgot about the fact that Marcus and I were the only two on shift, me being the only waitress in the establishment. Nate had to wave his hand in front of my face to bring me back to Earth and ask, "Aren't you going to take his order?"

I blinked, glancing at him and then back towards Professor Souza before snapping from my trance and muttering, "Oh. Yes. Right. That's my job."

Just as hesitant as I had been to approach his desk the day before, I left Nate's side- while his eyes remained on my back- and slinked up toward Professor Souza who was now skimming over the diner's menu previously placed at his spot.

When I got there, I took a deep and even breath to keep myself from stuttering and opened my mouth to greet him. However, without looking up at me, Professor Souza bluntly stated, "Black coffee, please. I'll need a second before I order something."

"I know you like apples," I blurted without quite thinking of exactly what it was I was getting at. Embarrassed, I rushed through the rest of what I was trying to say before he could question how I knew this minor, personal detail.

"May I suggest our apple pie? It's today's special."

Professor Souza glanced up at me then, his jade eyes penetrating mine from beneath his lashes in a smolder that took my breath away. For a brief second, his brows were bent questioningly before shooting up in recognition. He gave me his full attention then and I could see that faint smile touching his eyes like I had the day before.

"Chloe?"

"Um, yup. Nice to see you, Professor Souza."

"I wasn't aware that you worked here. I've never seen you on my regular visits."

"I only work weekends," I stated factually, that oddly comforting warmth filling me like before, rendering my previous anxiety obsolete.

"That explains it. I usually come during the week."

I nodded, wanting very much to continue talking, just so that I could resume listening to his rich voice. But I couldn't think of anything more to say. Aside from that, Nate's notable gaze on the two of us was making me feel uneasy and I was _supposed_ to be working.

"So, you wanted a black coffee? I'll grab that for you while you go over the menu." I smiled and made to slip away before Professor Souza shook his head and handed me the menu.

"No need. I'll take the pie." He smirked nonchalantly and I couldn't fight the light blush from growing on my cheeks.

As I made my way over to the brewing coffee pots, dazed, Nate quietly asked, "Isn't it just weird to see your teachers outside of class."

I shrugged. "Not really. They have lives too."

"Well, yeah, I know that. But the idea seems so alien, don't you think?"

I turned to face him at the counter and grabbed a piece of the pie I had just placed into the display case while giving Nate a perplexed look.

"You think Professor Souza is a martian?"

"You know what I mean," Nate stated, annoyed.

I laughed in response, amused as he rolled his eyes in irritation.

"Come one, Nate. It's not weird. In fact, it's kind of nice to see them just like us."

Which was true. Seeing Professor Souza this way wasn't as intimidating as seeing him conducting his classes. He seemed less inanimate and more relatable in a casual setting, much like my discovery that he was quite approachable if he allowed it.

And I liked that a lot more than fawning over him while he lectured my ears off in class.

"Whatever," Nate muttered. I really never understood why Nate was so bitter towards our calculus Professor. But, I didn't really want to dwell on it because, I wasn't. And, currently, he was my customer and he was waiting.

Relaying this to my ginger friend, I left him again to tend to Professor Souza's order. He was still at the other end of the counter, only now he seemed to be reading over something on his smart phone.

"One black coffee and one piece of Michael's famous, apple pie." I said as I placed said items in front of him.

"Famous?" Professor Souza questioned. "I've come here for years and never even seen this on the menu."

"It's the Saturday special. Three dollars and fourteen cents a slice."

Professor Souza had been about to take bite when he froze, fork half lifted, eyes darting to meet mine in humorous disbelief. I blushed ferociously and gave a nervous laugh.

"You just-"

"-used a mathematical pie pun." I agreed before he could finish while dropping my head into my hands, abashed. "Yeah, that was dorky."

_Oh God, just stop talking._

Professor Souza gave a short, amused laugh and, though I was about to die of embarrassment, I couldn't help but be thrown by the carefree, deep sound. Like it was vibrating from deep within his chest and bubbling up through his lips. I allowed myself to meet his eyes again, finding that he was giving me that very smirk that was slowly becoming something of a signature expression for him. Not quite a smile, but more than the scowl that I was used to.

"Just because I teach math, doesn't mean I like math puns." He chastised.

In response, I shrugged sheepishly and said, "Right. But I'm flunking math and I find them hilarious. Like, why is six afraid of seven?"

"Because seven eight nine." Professor Souza answered flatly, his left brow rising gingerly in a question of possibly my maturity. He may have told me that he thought I was his brightest student, but I had just provided evidence that I was anything but.

I laughed and gestured to the pie, noticing that, while we were conversing, he had already taken a couple bites.

"How's the pie?"

"Better than my sister's pie, that's for sure. I might have to start coming on Saturdays more often."

The idea sent the same gleeful eagerness of that of his proposition to spend Tuesday through Thursday evenings with him while I studied for upcoming math tests. It lead me to believe that I had been struck by some miracle dose of luck and had all these new opportunities to get to know more about my calculus Professor. For instance, just by speaking with him for a mere five minutes, I discovered that he had a sister. Something I hadn't been aware of before and something that fueled my desire to learn more.

I was ready to remark when I heard the chimes of the diner entrance bell and realized that my time with my extremely alluring and captivating math teacher was up. I wasn't so disappointed, though, knowing I always had the upcoming Tuesday study session to look forward to.

"I have to get back to work. I'll be back with your check in a bit." I smiled, hoping it was received as warmly as I had obtained his. He nodded and I turned to leave, but his call caught my attention and I turned back expectantly, catching the questioning and simply curious look on his face.

"Chloe, one question. How did you know that I liked apples?" He asked skeptically. I flushed and refused to meet his eyes as I answered, tucking a lose strand of my blonde hair behind my ear nervously.

"U-um, y-you always eat o-one before class s-starts." I stuttered, wincing at how childish and maybe even stalker-ish I sounded. "I keep getting m-mad at myself for forgetting mine w-when I see yours. You always have the g-green ones, which are my favorite."

"Green is a common theme with you, isn't it?"

"You said only one question, Professor-" I stated, for once throwing my own tease back at him. However, he interrupted me by shaking his head and standing from his stool at the breakfast counter. I noticed that, as he reached for his back pocket, his coffee was half empty and his pie was gone.

Smirk still in its place among his features, Professor Souza laid a ten dollar bill onto the counter and rumbled, "Keep the change. And, we're not in class, Chloe. My name is Derek."

Surprised, I barely registered his, _'See you in class,'_ or his departure as I waved dazedly back at him.

Derek.

I don't know how long I stood there, comatose, as I tossed his name over and over in my brain, searing it to memory, before Marcus called out for me to serve the forthcoming customers.

It was then that I remembered where I was and who was around me. Sure, I had been subconsciously aware, but I would be lying if I said I hadn't forgotten about Nate back on the other side of the breakfast bar, eyes hard as they followed Professor- Derek- Souza while said math teacher retreated out the front door and back out into the city.

Hell, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't forgotten that Nate was there altogether.

**I really liked writing this chapter. How much did you guys love reading it?**

**Review! The more feedback, the quicker the update. :p**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note- I noticed quite bitterly that all my chapter titles start with a P. That's going to bother me once the pattern is broken. Does that make me obsessive compulsive?**

**Anyways, I was blown away by the feedback on the previous chapter that I couldn't keep this one away from you guys until Saturday. So, as promised, in response to you guys, I can negotiate throwing in Wednesday updates. :) Keep up those reviews and subscriptions and I'll more than happily start giving you guys two updates a week. It all depends on you. :D**

**Also, I decided that, after reviewing my outline and taking into consideration the character I am introducing in this chapter, that the update of the next chapter is a good time to convert this fiction to an M rating. To everyone who is reading, please follow the story so that you'll get update alerts or at least make sure that you are filtering through the M rated archive in order to see when I've added a new chapter. **

**Enjoy!**

**Forbidden**

**Professor Banks**

The weekend passed somewhat uneventfully, yet painstakingly slow. To say that I was entirely too eager for it to be Tuesday afternoon- regardless of the fact that I actually had my calculus course Monday morning- would be an understatement. I just had this gut feeling that simply being in Professor Souza's class was no longer going to be the same nor good enough. The concept just seemed so impersonal and the prospect of my teacher having to remain professional around me wasn't very appetizing.

I could tell that my standards, as far as being around the Professor, were getting higher, in which I _knew_ they had no place to be. It was his job to teach me and simply his duty to keep me from failing. End of story.

However, despite what my brain and conscious were screaming at me, my heart and gut were expressing the opposite.

I had spent just over two months in Professor Souza's calculus course and never once seen him express any interest or care towards his students. Aside from this, between my first embarrassing slip up and the previous Friday where he had offered to tutor me, neither had been the sole times I had made some sort of connection with him.

Whether it was a simple, _'Good morning, Miss Saunders,'_ whenever I rarely saw him around campus or that one time he muttered, _'Sorry about that, Chloe,'_ as I was turning in a past test and heard him curse about forgetting his cell phone back home before noticing my untimely presence, Professor Souza had, for some reason, of all the other students, allowed me to be the one to receive his individual attention.

I could have been reading too much into it- before the passing weekend, I wouldn't have even tried to read into Professor Souza's actions whatsoever- but the only time I really saw him paying any mind to the others- Nate, for example- was to silence their chatter or question them during his lectures.

And then he told _me_ his name.

Derek.

Derek Souza.

How many of his other students knew his first name, or were allowed to, for the matter? Whom of his students had actually seen him smile or heard him laugh, aside from myself. Judging by the rumors that hovered around him, Professor Souza was known to be a stoic, grump of a man, in which I had previously believed myself. In retrospect, this irrelevant gossip was still flitting around only because no one had seen the little pieces of the mysterious calculus Professor that I had.

Moments like meeting with him after receiving my midterm grade and at the diner fueled my logic that I had something of a right to think that I wasn't merely seen by Professor Souza as just another one of his students. So, I was determined to use my study sessions to test that theory. And that determination powered me to push through a grueling, snail-paced of a Tuesday.

And I was_ so_ close. I merely had a half an hour left to endure of my studio workshop class taught by one of my least favorite teachers. The arts instructor, Professor Banks.

"Isn't he dreamy?" Liz questioned, her eyes elsewhere aside from the wooden bush she was supposed to be painting for the NYU's musical theater's upcoming performance of A Christmas Carol. She wasn't even aware of the fact that she was layering it quite thickly with a lovely, muddy brown, murky color.

I averted my gaze- and raised eyebrow- from her work of art to look at her questioningly.

Elizabeth Delaney was an extremely beautiful young woman. She had long, flowing and thick blonde hair, hung today in cute ringlets down to her mid-back. Her eyes were much of the same color as Nate's, whose presence was that beside mine as we all shared the studio workshop class. Liz had a figure that men only ravished with their eyes before noting that she was simply way out of their league. And she was sweet. She never had a bad thing to say about anyone, which said a lot, seeing as her favorite pastime was aimless chatter.

"God, what a hunk muffin." She breathed again. I wondered loosely if she had seen Peter Ricci, her boyfriend who had a physics class around this time, but highly doubted it as Liz's obsequious behavior- as well as just about every other female in this class- was almost a daily occurrence when we were all _blessed _with Professor Banks' presence.

Rolling my eyes, I followed her gaze, catching said Professor across the auditorium, hovering and discussing what he expected of the house a couple of girls were painting. They giggled flirtatiously and it wasn't really hard to see why most girls fawned over him.

In difference with Professor Souza, Professor Banks insisted that his students called him by his first name. Royce. He was tall and slender as any averagely built man was. His eyes were a chocolaty brown, his short hair similar in color. He had a perfectly straight nose, a flattering- with white, glistening teeth and all- smile and photogenic facial features.

It wasn't hard to say that Professor Banks was hot.

But it was difficult, however, to swallow his personality.

Unlike the reserved teacher of my fancy, the reason girls turned to putty at Royce's feet was because of his bad boy persona. He was maybe the same age as Professor Souza- if I knew the age of either it would have been easier to tell- but Professor Banks acted as if he had never left high school. Playing the role of your everyday teenage dick, Royce was cocky and seemed to have this somewhat vindictive aura about him. He knew he was hot and he wasn't afraid to flaunt it.

Even now, as the two girls he was currently speaking with continued to hackle and swoon at his teasing advances, he leaned against the stage's back wall coolly, hands shoved into his pockets, smirk playing in place of his professionalism.

I really had no right to judge, for my crush on Professor Souza was possibly just as bad, but, it wasn't the girls' curiosity and desire that concerned me. It was the vibes I was getting from the arts Professor that definitely left me feeling wary and uncomfortable.

All in all, I didn't find Royce Banks appealing whatsoever.

"Liz, you have a boyfriend." I muttered dryly, looking away from Professor Banks quickly when he glanced in our direction.

"Oh, I know." Liz chirped, finally returning to Earth and bringing her attention back to the bush she was currently destroying. She wrinkled her nose at her handiwork and promptly switched her paint to a more suitable color.

"And I'm totally committed." She continued. "But, every girl can have a fantasy, don't you think, Chloe?" She gave me flaunting look and I blushed. Liz may or may not know the depths of my infatuation with Professor Souza.

Aside from Nate, I had known Liz since high school and she was a pretty close friend. Nate and I were closer, but, if I ever needed any girl time, Liz was my wingman. So, just about every occasion we had a slumber party in our respective dorms, she had hounded me about my boyfriend history until she finally dragged my current affections out of me. At first, she seemed surprised, as if she were expecting my crush to be someone else. However, once the secret was out, she had squealed, _"Oh my God! I completely get it. Professor Souza is hot!"_

A lot of girls were attracted to the calculus Professor, yet their attention always seemed short-lived. Professor Souza wasn't as accepting to that kind of attention as Professor Banks. He was strict and didn't flirt back. So, the female population tended to sway more in Royce's favor.

Which, honestly, was fine with me and made Professor Souza just that much more appealing. Gentlemanlike.

"Relax, Chloe. Professor Banks is just eye candy."

"I don't understand you girls at all," Nate muttered sardonically. When we both glanced at him as he was working on assembling Tiny Tim's crutch, we found him giving Professor Banks that same, odd, hard look as I often caught him giving Professor Souza. What was his deal with the teachers?

"What do you mean?" Liz questioned, her brows knitting together innocently. "Don't men objectify women all the time? It's like second nature to them. Why is it hard to believe that girls do the same thing from time to time?"

"Because he's your teacher." Nate explained almost angrily. I found myself just as confused by Nate's objections as Liz, questioning why he really cared at all.

"You girls are always talking about them like they're a piece of meat. Professor Banks. Professor Souza. They both have to be at least ten years older than most of the student body. You guys don't see anything wrong about that?"

"No. Not at all." Liz shrugged. Nate made to snap something back but Liz interrupted him and continued.

"First of all, they can't be more than five years older than us. Both of them started teaching two years ago, right out of college. I heard they both attended a college in Syracuse together." I blinked, surprised that Liz knew all this information and sort of grateful that she was one to be into the whole rumor mill. Sometimes, Liz proved that her ability to talk and talk was more valuable than I ever gave her credit for.

"Beside the point," Liz resumed. "It doesn't matter how old they are because, like I said, they're just eye candy. I care about Peter. I'm _with_ him. But he likes to look at supermodels and porn just like every other man on the planet. So, what makes it so wrong that I like to check out my art teacher?"

Nate rolled his eyes and glanced my way, eyes pleading me to talk sense into our chatty friend and take his side. However, I shook my head and held up my hands.

"Hey, I'm not getting involved in this. You two are the ones arguing-"

"Oh please," Nate snorted bitterly. "I've seen the way you look at Professor Souza, Chloe. You're not exactly a third party here. You're just as guilty-"

"So I look. Big deal. At least I don't go on and on about his alluring blue eyes and soft red hair like a certain someone I know and his not-so secret obsession with Emma Stone. You want my opinion?" I questioned stubbornly, watching triumphantly as Nate started to stand down, my logic kicking him in the ass. "I agree with Liz. But, I think you're jealous that your math and art teachers are getting more attention from college girls than you are."

I hadn't really been thinking about what I was saying. I had mostly reacted defensively because it was bad enough having just one person knowing about my feelings towards Professor Souza. I don't think I would be able to handle having Nate knowing as well. But, once the words slipped, I figured that they made sense and greatly explained why Nate was so bitter towards Professor Souza all the time.

"Whatever." Nate muttered dejectedly before turning back to his gimpy excuse for a prop.

After that, the subject was dropped and Liz started to ask the two of us what we had planned for our Thanksgiving break coming up within the next week. I told her that I was going to pick up a shift at the diner as my only relatives were both busy that weekend with work. Dad was constantly commuting back and forth between Buffalo and Europe these days that I didn't even try bothering him with a holiday we had hardly celebrated since Mom had passed away. And Aunt Lauren was scheduled to work at her hospital in Albany all that week. Liz felt bad but I assured her that it was no big deal.

Eventually, Nate stopped being such a grump and joined into the conversation. He was planning to head back to Buffalo to visit his parents for the holiday weekend and hopefully catch up with a couple of old friends from our high school. I had to, once again as he's offered several times already, decline his suggestion for me to join him and that his family wouldn't mind.

Mr. and Mrs. Bozian were sweet and welcoming, so I knew it wouldn't have been a problem. But, I wasn't sure how comfortable I felt spending Thanksgiving with a full and content family when I couldn't handle it being just my Dad and I. Besides, I needed the extra money and could use the alone time to study more for the upcoming math tests Professor Souza had made an announcement about the day before.

Liz was telling us that she was going to spend the break at her Nana's, where she had previously lived with her mother and younger brother, when the bell shrilled and informed us that the hour was over.

At the sound, I could feel my heart skip a beat and the anticipation that had momentarily disappeared thanks to Liz and Nate's company double back tenfold.

I was about to spend an undetermined amount of time with Professor Souza, just the two of us. Though I was sure that what was to pass would mostly be studying, I couldn't help the excitement of putting my new objective into play.

And that was to discover whether Professor Souza saw me in the same light that I saw him.

I bid Liz and Nate goodbye, Liz throwing me a wink on her way out as she was well aware of my afternoon's coming activities. But, before I could race out the door from sheer eagerness I heard my name called and turned from making it halfway across the stage to find that it was Professor Banks beckoning my attention.

"Chloe, if I could have a quick word with you," He asked, tone light and friendly, yet not quite hiding the smarmy lilt to it. "I heard from Mr. Bozian that the two of you are writing a play and performing it as your audition piece into Juilliard next year."

My brows bent questioningly as I observed him saunter closer to me, finding myself confused as to why Nate would inform him of that. Not that it was wrong; Nate had the right to tell anyone what he was doing for college next here. That was his business. I just found it strange that he was talking to Professor Banks about it.

When the arts Professor finally reached me, he gave me a hearty grin and casually stood before me with his arms crossed while his dark eyes flashed in a light that I didn't feel too comfortable with.

In fact, him standing just a foot away from me made me feel uneasy, though, Professor Banks had never really done anything in the past to merit all of my hesitance.

"If you'd like some advice or help with your piece, I'd be more than happy to relay my own thoughts."

Still feeling off about the conversation, as Professor Banks had never once approached me before, I gave him a hesitant smile and replied cautiously.

"S-sure, but maybe a-another time? I have study hall with P-professor Souza at four and I wouldn't w-want to be late."

Professor Banks' brows knit together curiously and his beautiful orbs ran over me for a brief second, searching for something, perhaps, I wasn't too sure. When his eyes bounced up to mine again, his lips tugged into a questioning smirk and he stated, "Professor Souza, huh?"

"Um, yes. H-he doesn't really seem l-like he enjoys waiting, so I-I'm in somewhat of a hurry."

"Of course, that's very understandable," Professor Banks agreed euphorically. I nodded slowly before gifting him with an awkward, _'Alright. Bye then,'_ and made to flee the auditorium and rid myself of the creepy vibes I was getting from the arts teacher.

However, after I had hopped off the stage and made it halfway down the aisles towards the auditorium's back exits, Professor Banks called for my attention again and exclaimed, "Do me a favor, Chloe? Inform Derek that it's been far too long since I've had the pleasure of speaking with him." He chuckled almost menacingly before he continued. "I'm sure he's dying to catch up on our good old college days just as much as I am."

The way he stood there, atop the stage as if he owned it, stature tall and dominant as if he liked it that way, and eyes smoldering in an ominously malicious manner sent a tremor of shivers down my spine. It was almost like his entire persona did a 180 where, before, he was approaching me like he did just about any other girl around campus or in his classes. A lustful hunter. But, since I had mentioned Professor Souza's name, he became exactly what I feared and suspected of him.

Simply just a hunter, without a specific desire behind it. That only proved to be ten times as frightening.

Swallowing nervously, I simply nodded my response and backed away. When I finally made it through the doors, my feet took up a mind of their own and I sprinted to the parking lot where the safety of my car awaited me.

**So? Let's just say, the more feedback, the sooner you'll get to find out how Professor Banks ties into Professor Souza's past. :)**

**Want a Saturday update?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note- I'm heading to Las Vegas this weekend so I decided to update today instead of my regular Saturday. And, just to deter some ideas, I'm not going to gamble or drink. :/ I'm only 19. But my sister will be there for a cheerleading competition and I'll be able to meet her there to see her perform. I'm pretty excited to see my parents again- though I only saw them about a month ago. :p**

**Anyways, the deal still stands. The more feedback, the sooner the update. Who wants another chapter on Wednesday?**

**Please enjoy!**

**Forbidden**

**History**

Owning a car in New York City had never been more sensible. I could feel my anxiety begin to ebb as soon as I left the parking lot of the campus in which the auditorium was located. But, I didn't even allow myself to relax until I was a couple miles away, breaching the campus where I attended my math course and was rushing my way to Professor Souza's classroom.

Once I burst through the doors to his lecture hall, this strange but gratefully accepted blanket of safety enveloped me and I released a shaky breath that I wouldn't be surprised to have been holding the entire drive over.

"You're late." I heard Professor Souza rumble. I glanced across the room, the space shifting slightly as my previous lightheadedness from the situation with Professor Banks settled minutely. I found my math Professor sitting at his desk, eyes glued to a stack of papers as he scribbled on them with a red pen. He hadn't even glanced my way upon my entrance.

So we were back to being strict and stoic weren't we?

"I-I'm sorry," I muttered, wincing at the quaky sound of my voice. If Liz knew what had just passed between Professor Banks and I, she would have suggested that I was overreacting. And maybe I was. However, I seemed to be the only one that was able to peer through the fog and mirrors that Professor Banks displayed and, instead of seeing the attractive badass that every other girl depicted of him, I saw the dangerous marauder underneath.

Even if it was simply his personality that seemed menacing, I didn't trust Professor Banks and I was going to agree with my gut instinct to steer clear of him if at all possible.

As I spoke, Professor Souza glanced up at me from his desk. I was still hovering by the door, shaking as the aftereffects of fear rolled off of me in waves. Suddenly, he was out of his chair, striding towards me with a questioning and surprisingly concerned look adjourning his features.

"Chloe? Are you alright? You're pale." He asked, puzzled as he stepped closer to me. He reached out to give some sort of assistance before thinking better of it and crossing his large arms over his broad chest. He simply stood at a comfortable distance whether I was still having an internal anxiety attack or not. Which was a close proximity. His eyes were crisp and hard, assessing me as he met my own blue ones. And, as they did, an instant warm flooded through me and I knew I was safe for the time being, far from the auditorium and my arts teacher.

"Professor Souza? C-can I tell you something in confidence?"

He nodded, brows coming together strictly. Not quite questioning but almost sternly, as if what I had to say was of the utmost importance and he would tend to it as if it were his own business.

"I-it's about Professor B-banks-" I started. However, Professor Souza immediately dropped his arms and took a more defensive stance, instantly reacting to the name as if it were a reflex and blurted, "What did he do to you?"

I was taken aback briefly, startled by his rough tone, almost swearing that I had heard the question rip from his chest in a growling manner.

"H-he didn't do anything. I just get this bad feeling about him and, I might be reading too much into it, but-"

Derek sighed, relaxing notably as he took a small step away from me, his aura flipping instantaneously from almost hostile to deflated and withdrawn.

"Chloe. Don't make excuses for your instincts. Do you understand me?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, thrown awry by Professor Souza's rollercoaster of emotions. His eyes linked to mine again, serious and steely as he replied.

"I honestly don't know how he got a job here at NYU. I don't even know how he graduated high school, let alone college. I've known him for a few years and I'm telling you not to ignore those feelings you have towards him."

"He mentioned something about that," I said slowly. "He said something about the two of you back in college. Did something happen?"

In all honesty, throughout all my anxiety, I forgot that that was one of the first questions to pop into my head when Professor Banks spoke of his college days with Professor Souza. What was it that made Royce react the way he did when I mentioned my math teacher? And vice versa, when I expressed my concerns to Professor Souza.

Said instructor averted his eyes, verifying that I had a right to be suspicious. However, he didn't answer. Instead, his attention was captured as he stared out the window. Though, I doubted that he was looking at the landscape of New York as he had this faraway look about his majestic, jade orbs.

I wondered impatiently what he was thinking or possibly remembering. And, as Professor Souza spoke again, I found that I had to get used to that disappointment of having to wait for a straight answer.

"Right now, none of that matters." He said lowly. "Just be wary of Professor Banks, for the time being. That's all I need you to understand."

"Shouldn't I know if there is something-" I began before Professor Souza snapped out of his memories to give me a stern look.

"No."

"But-"

"Chloe, all that I ask is that you follow your instincts. And-" He paused for a moment, eyes holding mine much like Nate's did at times. A whirlpool of undetermined emotions and an unfathomable amount of intensity, as if he could see right to my core.

"-If you continue to get these bad feelings, come straight to me."

Part of me really wanted to wholeheartedly agree to his demand, slightly dazed that he was expressing so much concern for me and the situation. But, the other part of me didn't like the demand part of it so much. This was roughly the first time I was able to realize how bossy Professor Souza was. I mean, in class, it made sense for him to be unyielding. But, this wasn't class. This was my life.

And, when it normally came to my own life, I didn't like much being told what to do as if I couldn't handle myself.

"Chloe?" Professor Souza questioned, tone indicating that he was slightly frustrated with my delayed response.

"I know what happened between you two isn't any of my business." I huffed, agitated. I could feel my fingers curling into fists at my sides as one of his dark, slender brows twitched upward slightly, disbelief crossing his features at the sound of my tone.

"And I know that you're my instructor, but I'm not a child and I don't like being talked to as if I were one."

At the moment, the man before me wasn't Professor Souza, my heartthrob of a calculus teacher and superior. He was Derek, the average- if not slightly above- guy I had joked with back at Michael's diner. This fact addled my common sense to address him respectfully and accordingly. Instead, I was approaching him how I often did with Nate whenever we got into an argument.

For a second, Professor Souza didn't look too happy and I could tell that I wasn't the only stubborn one in the room. He blew out a frustrated breath after several minutes of silence on my part and a few vain attempts to respond on his end. Finally, he met my eyes, reluctance evident in his own when he finally spoke.

"I'm not here to belittle you. I'm here to tutor and assist you so that you don't fail my class."

And my hard-ass, lovable Professor Souza was back.

"However, as not only your mentor, but as one equal speaking to another, I'm warning you to keep as far from Royce Banks as possible. For my own reasons, I don't trust him and I don't want to see-" He seemed to struggle for the right word, pausing and grimacing as if he weren't used to being in the wrong and openly admitting it while simultaneously trying to get his point across.

"-I don't want to see anyone get hurt."

I tried- God knows I tried- to ignore the way my heart lurched at his words and concentrated on remaining resolute. Something about him told me that Professor Souza was the kind of man that would say what you wanted to hear for the time being before turning around and repeating the issue. I think it was because of how easily he accepted my sass- though notably surprised by it- and forcibly expressed that I should listen to what he was really trying to tell me.

And I understood him. Though it wasn't informational, I knew that Professor Souza had his reasoning and he was sincere. So, for now, I was going to have to deal with that.

"Alright." I agreed, in which Professor Souza responded by exhaling in an exasperated fashion.

"Very well. Now, shall we actually get down to the reason I've allotted this time to you?"

Professor Souza led me over to his desk. He had set up a station for me across from him simply by dragging a chair from one of the closer of the student desks to sit opposite of him and placing a piece of scratch paper on the desk with a solitary, number two pencil. I took my seat as he slumped into his.

"I'm going to read off problems that are similar to what you missed on the midterm," Professor Souza began to explain while grabbing a piece a paper with several equations listed on it.

"Once you copy them down, work through them to the best of your ability and I'll grade them. I'm counting it as something of a make-up test that can at least bring your score on the midterm to a 70 percent."

"So I would get a C instead of an F?" I questioned, a glimmer of hope teasing me from the pit of my stomach.

Professor Souza nodded and added, "That will allow you to keep the credit of this course so that you don't lose your scholarship. However, in order to keep you from failing more tests or even your final, we're going to have these study sessions so that you know that you are comprehending the material."

"You make it sound like I can't comprehend math," I mumbled bitterly under my breath. He must have heard for he raised a brow and pulled my midterm test from beneath his stack of papers holding my make-up test problems, showing me the evil, red F on the front just below my name.

"When you're getting acceptable grades I'll think twice about whether you can understand math or not." He stated blatantly, though, the corner of his lip twitched just a fraction, threatening to form that smirk I was beginning to grow somewhat fond of.

I flushed and reached for the pencil he left for me and nodded for him to begin. After I had copied down all the problems, I got to work, knowing full well as I started that, if I hadn't gotten it the first time, it was going to be really difficult for me the second.

And it was, for the next forty five minutes passed something like this.

I was on my third equation, finding it hard to even decipher an answer out of the mess I had made on the page when I heard, "Wrong. Try it again."

I glanced up at my calculus Professor having not heard him since I had started for he had resumed what he was doing when I had arrived. It seemed as if he were grading papers. Even as he spoke he wasn't looking at me or my work, but the stack of homework sitting in front of him, scribbling a large B on the page whose owner I could not recall.

"Did I get the first two wrong?" I asked, concerned with the answers I had written for the previous questions.

"I can't tell you that, Chloe." Professor Souza answered factually. I frowned.

"But you just-"

"Because you're hesitating. If you're really that unsure of what to do next, then erase what you have and start over."

That made sense. If I was having such a hard time, maybe it was because I had taken the wrong step somewhere in the equation. I did as he said and started the problem again and surprisingly found where I had made the mistake.

About halfway through, Professor Souza interrupted my struggles again with a mumbled, "Incorrect, Chloe. Try and find your mistake or start over."

He still wasn't even looking at me and I hadn't been hesitant about the current problem. It looked right to me, so why was he berating my answer? Knowing full well that he was the Professor and had the answer sheet, I sighed and erased the work I had.

"Why would you erase it if you knew that your answer was correct?" Professor Souza questioned. I shot him a disbelieving look to find him finally looking at my sheet with disapproval.

"You said it was wrong."

"I also told you that I can't give you that information." He rumbled. "You need to stop second guessing yourself."

So he tricked me. Sure, it may have helped me see that I wasn't so secure with the answers I came up with, but couldn't he have just said that without having me erase all the hard work I had done?

Grumbling to myself, I rewrote the problem and continued down the list, all while being bothered by statements like, "Slow down. You're going to miss something."

"Stop thinking about it too hard, Chloe."

"You're second guessing yourself again. Start over."

When I found myself stuck on the final four questions, I was resolved to glaring at my paper, right cheek cupped by my hand as I propped my elbow against Professor Souza's desk, flipping my pencil idly and distractedly in my free hand.

I was probably frozen like this without progress for several minutes while simultaneously getting on Professor Souza's nerves, for he shot his hand out and caught mine, ceasing the pencil from its incessant twirling on my command. I was caught by surprise and glanced over at his hand enveloping mine, a blush creeping to my cheeks and a lump forming in my throat by the physical contact.

Much like the first time I had shook his hand, it left a tingling sensation where his skin met mine.

"Chloe, you're losing focus." He stated quite harshly, snapping me from the fact that he was holding my hand prisoner only to keep me from fiddling with my pencil. I met his eyes to find him staring at me critically and released an exhausted breath, allowing myself to calm from the thrilling waves that were rushing through me from him merely touching me.

"Can I take a break? I feel like my brain is going to explode." The statement was only half true, as my brain was partially flustered by his hand closed over mine still.

He sighed and released me- to my displeasure- and leaned back into his chair. I observed that his stack of papers that he had been grading were no longer on the desk and I wondered how long ago he had finished. It was then, as I surveyed how neat Professor Souza's work space was, that I noticed his keys sitting beside an empty coffee mug, a particular trinket living among the metal devices catching my attention.

"You went to Buffalo high school?"

Professor Souza followed my gaze and gave the bison shaped keychain a bored expression.

"You could say that. I only graduated there, but it was my second high school during my senior year."

Intrigued, I opted to digging just a bit to learn a little more about my calculus Professor. I reached into the pocket of the light jeans I was wearing and pulled out my car keys, the same keychain hanging from them as Professor Souza's.

"I only graduated there too." I said as I held up my keys for him to see. His smirk took place and he reached for my keys. He investigated the keychain briefly before taking a small interest in the key to my car.

"My Dad and I moved a lot for his job, so I never got to stay in one school for too long. But, he was able to finally settle down in Buffalo and promised I'd spend the duration of my senior year at one school. College has been better by far, though. If I weren't on my own, I'd be in Europe with him right now."

Professor Souza seemed to have left the classroom, for it was Derek now, leaning casually back in his chair with his arms crossed- after he had handed me back my keys- and snorting in response to my minor anecdote before adding his own comment.

"Sounds pretty similar to what my family did. I didn't mind much, though. I knew my father was busy trying to raise us kids on his own and the only way he could do that was by working. So I never complained."

"What about your sister?" I asked curiously, remembering that he had mentioned her at the diner.

Derek rolled his eyes and muttered, "Her and my brother could find a complaint on just about anything."

So, as I had previously suspected, he did have a brother. Fueled by my zeal to know more about him, I made to ask more questions out of the millions running amok in my brain. However, for the umpteenth time since I had come to this study session, Derek sighed and pushed himself up from his seat, motioning towards my makeup test that was all but forgotten on his desk.

"We're getting off track, Chloe. You need to finish these equations and then we'll discuss the methods that'll work best for you to keep your grades up in this course."

Deflated, I nodded in agreement and picked up my pencil to resume my work.

_Welcome back, Professor. _

At least the session wasn't a total loss. I knew I had some sort of ability to break through his hard exterior and I planned on executing it more often in the future.

**I feel like I rushed this chapter a little. Still, I'm somewhat pleased with it. **

**Wednesday update? Review please and I will do just that. :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note- Vegas was fun and I learned alot of tricks to use when I head back for the Supernatural convention in a month. :) Does anyone else like that show and is anyone going to the Salute to Supernatural weekend? I get to take a picture with my favorite angel, Castiel. :D**

**Anyways, I want to apologize ahead of time for this chapter. It's more of a filler because I have to pass some time in the story, but there is still a hint of Chlerek. :) **

**Otherwise, be patient. More is sure to come.**

**Forbidden**

**Clueless**

I wound up getting full marks for my make-up test and that allowed Professor Souza to merit my work as a C instead of an F into the system.

Though I didn't much care for the way he went about it, Professor Souza pointed out where the majority of my faults were born. It wasn't that I was horrible at math. It was that, when I couldn't understand it, I would get frustrated and start overanalyzing my work and answers. That only proved to take me down the wrong path.

The failing path.

So, Professor Souza organized a study method that would be best suitable for me as we stepped into the second half of the term. It consisted of him giving me a page of problems that were similar to the homework assignments I had done the day before. For instance, the homework I'd had over the weekend and had turned in Monday became my sole concentration on my Wednesday study session. I received a list of problems that I had gotten wrong and worked my way through them, knowing that, if I hesitated with my answer, then I should double check my work and not second guess what seemed the most logical.

For the time being, it really seemed to help and I found that I could catch a lot more of my mistakes as I made them instead of at the end of working through a problem. I didn't allow myself to get too excited about it though, not at least until I started seeing the results in my tests and overall grades.

Aside from that and being _mostly_ satisfied with my study time with Professor Souza, things were still going slow as far as breaking through the, _'He's just the teacher and I'm just the student,' _barrier. There were a few occasions over the following days of my first study session where I was able to get just a hint of personal information out of him.

I'd been able to gather that he went to Syracuse University, where he earned a bachelor's degree in physics. When I asked him why he became a math teacher if that was the case, he evasively answered that it was the only position open at the time and directed me to continue with my equations.

At another point I discovered that, out of all his moving around as a kid, he had never left the state. His father was a lawyer and a damn good one by the sound of it, otherwise Professor Souza and his family wouldn't have had to move that much for his father's job.

Again, though, he would jump out of his reveries and insist that we got back to work. It was completely frustrating. _He_ was frustrating. He would always open up, even just a little, then think better of it and shut Derek out, returning as Professor Souza full force. Every time I thought that I might have a chance to dig a little out of him, he'd shut the door in my face.

I wondered at times if he knew what I was up to. But then I considered whose fault it really was. Because it sure as hell wasn't mine. I wasn't the one who asked him to call me Chloe when he started off going by Ms. Saunders. Why would he introduce himself by his first name if he didn't want to have a less formal relationship outside of school?

My only hope as I had left the study session Thursday evening was that he wasn't joking around when he said he should stop by the diner on Saturday's more often. That was the ultimate casual setting and, if I was graced with the chance to serve him, there would be millions of different and better topics to talk about than math.

"So, this is the part where you say, _'I need to send them back.'_"

"Huh?" I mumbled lamely, falling back into the present. The present being my dorm room where Nate and I were lounging on my bed, Nate sitting perpendicular, his back leaning against the wall where mine was against the headboard and my legs were stretched over the top of his. I met his amused gaze as he waved his copy of my script in front of my face in exaggeration.

"Earth to Chloe. We're supposed to be rehearsing." He laughed and I swatted at him with my own packet.

"I know I go on and on about making this scene perfect, but going over this script a million times tends to make me zone out."

"Well," Nate sighed, lifting his arms above his head, giving his body a good, long stretch. "I can't argue with you there. I say we call it a night. We've been at it for almost an hour anyways."

"Alright," I agreed while pulling my legs back and releasing him from the encasement. "Want to head over to Michael's for dinner?"

"Nah," Nate shook his head, standing and grabbing his jacket off the foot of my bed. "I don't have too much money left for the week and I have an early business class before calculus, so I should hit the hay early tonight."

Nate was the opposite of me when it came to taking care of himself. He knew when to accept favors and, when his parents offered to continue paying him an allowance, he wholeheartedly accepted, meaning that he didn't have to work like me. Although, he always stretched his earnings pretty thin over the two week span that his parents deposited money into his account.

"Yeah, saving money sounds like a good idea. Besides, I'll be there Saturday morning, so I can wait for the free food."

"You don't have to work tomorrow night?" Nate questioned, his ginger brows knitting together and a sudden form of excitement lighting up his blue eyes.

I smiled and replied, "Nope. First Friday of the term that Michael didn't put me on shift. I don't even know what to do with myself."

As I said this Nate beamed and leaned against the wall by the door of my dorm.

"How about a movie?"

"I don't want to see Gangster Squad," I mumbled instantly, automatically knowing where this was going.

"No, Chloe." Nate laughed. "I mean the drive-ins for their season closing this weekend. I think they're playing some version or another of Frankenstein tomorrow."

I gave it a thought. It seemed like a nice idea and it had been a while since I had gone out with my friends just for the fun of it. I also was lacking some time other than our shared studio workshop class with Liz.

"Sounds like fun. And it's cheap, so I won't have to splurge too much. Let's do it."

"Don't worry about the money, Chloe. It's on me." Nate announced.

"I thought you said you didn't have that much money left," I stated skeptically. Nate just smirked in reply.

"Not much to spend on food that I already have in my dorm. I'll have plenty for tomorrow."

"Right." I muttered with a roll of my eyes, knowing full well that he was going to be broke before he got paid over Thanksgiving weekend.

"So, since you're the one with the car, want to just meet over at my dorms around six?" Nate asked as he opened the door to my dorm.

"Sounds good."

I had to admit that I was pretty eager to do something fun and maybe even a little distracting from all the hectic business that had undergone over the past week. Though I had yet to have another issue with Professor Banks or make any progress with Professor Souza, I found myself slightly exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster of it all.

* * *

My excitement grew as Friday passed by. I called up Liz before my calculus class and invited her to tag along with Nate and I to the drive-in. She was quick to accept as her boyfriend would be working an evening shift after his afternoon classes.

On my way out after the bell signaled our release, I turned in some of my extra study questions to Professor Souza and suggested saving him a piece of the diner's Saturday special, hinting that I was hoping for him to come the following day. He merely nodded without meeting my eyes and I left the class feeling somewhat dejected and in desperate need for the movie night to come sooner.

Around half past five, I stopped by Liz's dorm to pick her up and she giddily hopped in the front seat, chatting a mile a minute enthusiastically before she even had the passenger door open.

"I'm so excited! I've never even been to a drive-in movie theater before."

"Really?" I questioned as I put my car in drive and pulled out of the parking lot. Liz and I lived about a block away from Nate and his dorms so I had decided to pick him up last. As I drove, Liz continued.

"I know, right? I guess I was just deprived as a child from the good stuff."

"But, weren't you always busy taking care of your Mom and your little brother?"

"I guess you have a point."

"How are they, by the way?" I added, pulling into the parking lot in front of Nate's dorms. He was on the second floor and his window was just above the entrance. So, when I parked, I laid my hand on the horn, an old habit for when I used to pick him up in the mornings and drive the two of us to high school.

Liz giggled and said, "Good, I guess. Same as always. Mom's sick again, but my Nana knows how to handle her. Oh! Actually, Nana started a pottery class a few weeks ago and said I should be expecting a few things for Christmas. And then my little bro joined a soccer team for his middle school."

"That's awesome," I responded, just as Nate slipped out through the lobby's double doors.

I opened my door and stepped out of my car before shouting, "Hurry up, slow poke! We've been waiting!"

His hair was such a bright red that, even twenty feet away I couldn't miss the way his brows met in confusion, question taking over his features.

"We?"

"Come on, Nathaniel! Can you walk any slower?"

I glanced behind me to see that Liz had gotten out also. Well, for the most part, she was only standing atop the rim of the small sedan where the door sat, waving her arms as she stood a good extra foot over the top of the car.

Though I expected it, Nate didn't seem amused. In fact, his face fell from perplexed to disappointed.

_Damn. Was I not supposed to invite Liz?_

"Liz has never been to a drive- in movie, so I thought that we should drag her along." I announced as he came closer. I noticed that he was wearing the white and blue plaid, buttoned shirt I had gotten him for his birthday in September and my favorite pair of his dark washed jeans with the hole in the knee from when we had gone hiking the previous summer.

I suppose it would have only been polite to mention to him back during our calculus class that I had invited Liz, but, I had thought that it was somewhat implied. That the night was supposed to be fun and celebrate the fact that I had the evening free of work.

"Uh, yeah. That's cool." Nate spoke with a seemingly reluctant, deflated tone. But then he smiled up at Liz over the top of our heads and said, "Glad that you could make it, Liz. I can't believe you've never been to a drive-in movie before."

"I know, right?" Liz laughed, repeating a similar conversation to ours as she and Nate climbed back into the car.

I sighed, having caught that Nate's welcoming persona hadn't met his eyes and knowing that I would have to make it up to him later. I quickly clambered back into the driver's seat and escorting the lot of us to the movie.

* * *

No amount of fun the night before could amount for the disappointed squirming sensation I felt when Professor Souza didn't show up at the diner for my shift Saturday morning.

Nate also denied visiting me as he usually did, still a little wounded- though he refused to admit it- that I hadn't kept the Friday evening just between him and I. In which case, this actually confused me. We were always together and I often felt as if Liz were left out of the loop at times. Why was it so bad that we all got to hang out together or what about it made him so bitter?

As the week progressed and the campus glowed in anticipation of the forthcoming long, holiday weekend, he seemed to gradually get over it and fit back into his old self. So I allowed my concerns to drop and focused the majority of my concentration on the math test we were supposed to have Wednesday before we were released for Thanksgiving break.

Professor Souza informed me after Monday's class that we would only meet for the Tuesday study session in light of holiday preparation and that we would focus on the lessons that would be covered in the test. For once, I felt completely confident in my ability to perform greatly on one of Professor Souza's tests, all because of his tutelage. However, that didn't keep my spirits very high as he continued to slip farther and farther from of my reach.

I could feel my theories and desires withering as I saw less of the man who had come to the diner and more of the man I had found myself so anxious and flustered around. I had fallen back into my old patterns of admiring him from afar, blushing whenever he looked my way, stammering whenever it was necessary for me to speak to him and overall hesitant to approach him the more he pulled away.

I wondered with sense of mortification if he had been able to deduct my feelings for him and simply cut off the chance of an inappropriate teacher/ student relationship by remaining distant, cold and unyielding.

Better said; falling back into his role as my Professor.

When that idea seemed to become more realistic than the one that I was different to him than his other students, I ceased to allow myself to dwell on such implausible fantasies. I stopped kidding myself. I told myself to grow up and move on and I tested with that attitude, turning in my quiz at the end of class Wednesday morning without so much as a look in Professor Souza's direction, no longer feeling too confident about my score.

* * *

"Hey, Marcus," I called through the pickup window to the only other worker on shift with me in the all but dead diner.

"It's pretty slow this morning. Why don't you take your break?"

The hazel-eyed man shrugged indifferently and set his spatula on the counter beside the stove. He stripped himself of his apron and trudged over to the back door towards the smoke pit where he spent the majority of his breaks.

"See you in thirty minutes." He called over his shoulder and I rolled my eyes.

I took the first fifteen of those minutes to clean up what few tables had already been used that morning and even reheated the coffee that was beginning to cool at the brewing station. I was fighting with a particularly stubborn, old coffee pot that often decided not to work when I heard the chimes of the entrance bell sound. I called a greeting without looking, still fussing over the blasted machine.

"I'll be right with you."

When the red light informing me that the machine was working finally flickered on, I placed my hands on my hips triumphantly and muttered, "Serves you right."

The light dimmed off flauntingly.

"Damn, coffee pot. Wait until I replace you, then we'll see who's taunting who."

An amused snort sounded behind me and I jumped, yelping quietly in the process. I turned upon my visitor and nearly got weak-kneed when I met dazzling green eyes.

"Do you often threaten inanimate objects?"

"P-professor Souza?"

Said man smirked while folding his arms and leaned them against the breakfast bar where he occupied one of the stools. I couldn't help my gaze flickering to his biceps, hugged tight by a short sleeved, plain, gray t-shirt or shake the slight attraction towards the shadow of stubble on his jaw, born by a simple refusal to shave over the weekend.

I was in such a daze by the fact that he was there, I almost wondered if I had fallen into a state of delusions do to my bored state courtesy of the uneventful morning. And then I was confused.

"What are you doing here?"

Professor Souza looked about to make a sarcastic remark- which I wouldn't put past him knowing what little I did of his personality- but seemed to think better of it. He reached towards his back pocket and surfaced with a piece of paper folded over like a letter. He handed it off to me in which I gave him a skeptical and quizzical look before examining it.

It was the test I had taken Wednesday. The only difference from the quiz I had taken then and the one I was looking at now was that there was a large 84 scrawled in red ink beneath my name.

My eyes snapped up and met Professor Souza's once again, surprised, only to find that he was no longer smirking.

He was smiling. A small smile, with a crooked quirk of his lips that lit up his features, his eyes sparking in a contended glow.

"How about we celebrate with some of that pie?"

**Yuck. Like I said, mostly a filler. But I loved writing the last bit. :)**

**Make me happy? Review pretty please. :D**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note- I want to apologize for not updating within the last week. -i.e. at the very least, my regular Saturday update- and I don't really have a list of excuses as I do a specific reason. I'm trying really hard to stay ahead with written chapters than what I am posting so that I don't take month long absences between updates. I cought myself back up to chapter 11, so we should be good for the next few weeks. ;)**

**Ahem, question, dear readers. Who is a follower of Cry or Cryaotic? I recently discovered that- though I don't play many video games- I am helplessly addicted to his commentary videos! I've been watching his 24 hour charity stream and decided to update as I did so! :) **

**Anyways, please enjoy the new chapter and check out my One-Shots that I have been releasing like crazy. I have three others currently in the works. :)**

**Enjoy!**

**Forbidden**

**Encounter**

December passed all too quickly after Thanksgiving break and, though I was oblivious to what had happened to him during the holiday, I found myself in debt to whatever it was as Professor Souza's distant demeanor turned 180 degrees over the following weeks.

That Saturday morning, business had been dead at the diner due to families staying home, eating leftovers from their Thanksgiving feasts, in which case that left me nearly half of my shift to visit with Professor Souza. Though we mostly discussed my quiz- which I had received an astonishing B after a solid track record of Cs in his class- and how I approached the problems to help me get a better grade, it still played as an icebreaker of his previous bearing. I almost wondered if him showing up at the diner just to give me my graded test before classes resumed was a way of him saying, _'Let's start over.'_ However, I had to chill my eager thoughts since I remained somewhat skeptical after he had pulled away once. Who was to say that he wouldn't do it again?

But, as students returned from visiting home for Thanksgiving and classes continued, so did my study sessions and Professor Souza's agreeably open behavior. In a span of four weeks, I had not only been able to keep a firm hold on my scholarship as my grade in calculus raised from a C to a B minus, but I had also figured out a few things here and there that really made Professor Souza tick.

For instance, during the first week back, while the new environment between us was still fresh, I refrained from asking too personal of questions. So, I used miscellaneous occurrences as leverage to initiate a conversation. Like when I found my ticket stub to the showing of Frankenstein at the drive-in theater in my book bag.

"I'm disappointed that the drive-in is closed for the season. I wish that they had at least shown a better movie during their closing weekend."

Professor Souza's brows bent thoughtfully as I spoke. He was leaning back in his chair again, his go-to relaxing position whenever we were wrapping up our study seminars as he sat across from me at his desk.

"Drive-in movie theaters are still around?" He asked curiously.

"Of course they are. Haven't you ever been to one?"

Professor Souza shook his head and I felt my jaw drop.

"How could you have possibly gone you're whole life watching movies without having gone to a drive-in theater at least once?" At least Liz was a few years younger and had a valid excuse. Though, I probably should have given him just as much credit as I gave her on the account of her never been to a drive-in movie theater.

"Easy." He shrugged. "I don't watch movies."

At this I allowed my head to fall to the desk, my forehead hitting the wood with a soft _thunk_.

Professor Souza found my zeal for the cinematic world somewhat amusing and I had to inform him that I didn't quite appreciate that. I then proceeded to demand that, when he was off work over the weekend, he had to watch at least one movie from his home collection.

"_You_ are giving me homework?" He questioned, his brows rising in disbelief.

"At least it's more enjoyable than this," I stated blatantly, waving my sheet of finished equations unenthusiastically about.

The following Tuesday, Professor Souza pulled a DVD case from his messenger bag- where he kept his lesson plans and anything else he needed to commute back and forth between the school and his home- and tossed it across the desk at me with a smirk. I picked it up for inspection before turning a questioning look his way.

"Harry Potter?"

"It was the only movie I could find in my brother's storage."

Just the fact that he had actually gone home and sat through a movie, and an awful one at that- though the series had been a highlight of a decade- sent a pleasant swarm of butterflies to flutter about in my gut. And, taking it aside from the point, it brought up a new conversation for us during that week.

"What do you mean by your brother's storage?" I asked, placing the movie back on his desk to be forgotten.

He explained that he and his brother had been roommates since they were young. Even when they moved out and went to college, they stuck together. However, when they moved to the city and got two separately demanding jobs, not to mention that his brother's favorite pass time was to bring women home, they agreed that it was time to move into separate apartments. Though it's been over a year since they've both had their own respective places, his brother still had some things stowed away at Professor Souza's residence.

I learned more as I continued to ask a little here and there about his family while we moved into the third week. Apparently he and his brother had been exceptionally close growing up. In high school, most thought of them as a pair of best friends instead of brothers. Professor Souza even confessed- though somewhat reluctantly- that he had a pretty close relationship to his sister as well.

From what I had gathered, Professor Souza was extremely compassionate when it came to his family. The people he cared about. He came across as the kind of guy that grew up with little complaints because, as long as he had his father and his siblings, he seemed to have everything that he ever wanted.

I could recall at one point before that weekend informing him that I was a bit jealous of his relationship with his siblings, having grown up an only child. The only time that I ever truly felt something along the lines of what he expressed while talking about his family, was before Mom had passed away.

I wasn't quite ready to tell him anything along those lines, though. Nor did I have the guts to question where his mother was, seeing as how he never once spoke of her.

To my displeasure, the final week before classes were released for the Christmas holidays went by in a blink of an eye. In all that time I had been able to connect with Professor Souza, I had also gotten an 85 and an 87 on the tests that had passed. As we were ending our study session the Thursday before break, Professor Souza informed me that if I pushed myself just a little more, then I was sure to get an A on the final coming mid-January.

"So, do you have any plans for Christmas break?" I asked my calculus Professor curiously. I myself had similar plans to that of Thanksgiving since Dad was still in Europe and Aunt Lauren couldn't get the time off from work. I wanted to know if I would be seeing him around the diner if he stayed in New York instead of heading to Syracuse where his Dad was currently living.

I highly doubted it.

Professor Souza gave me a half smile and answered with a shrug.

"Usually, we all meet up at Dad's place."

"Yeah. I kind of figured that." I smiled, though I couldn't quite keep the sound of disappointment out of my voice.

"And you're going to head back to Buffalo?" Professor Souza asked, now leaning over his desk with his right arm crossed over the other. He had just finished packing away a pile of his student's homework he had to finish grading later in his messenger bag.

I shook my head and said, "The house is going to be empty if I do, so the trip doesn't seem worth it. I'm just going to pick up some extra shifts at Michael's since all the other waitresses are going to be taking the holidays off."

Professor Souza gave me a disapproving look.

"You're going to be alone on Christmas?"

"Not entirely. Nate will be on campus before and after Christmas day, so I'll have some company. I'm used to it otherwise." Which was pretty true when I thought about it. I don't remember any recent Christmases where I had actually been with my Aunt or my Dad. When Mom passed away, Dad stopped trying so hard and, as I grew older, so did Aunt Lauren.

"You and Mr. Bozian seem inseparable." Professor Souza deadpanned, the lack of tone in his voice sounding almost forced.

As much as Nate disliked our math instructor, I think the feelings were somewhat mutual as Professor Souza often called Nate out in class for being a disruption. However, as he spoke, Professor Souza subconsciously scratched at his right forearm, attracting my curiosity as to whether the tension between the two in class was more than a teacher's simple annoyance with one of his student.

"We've known each other since high school. You could say we kind of pulled each other through and share the same goals. We look out for each other. He's my best friend."

I wanted Professor Souza to understand that Nate wasn't purposefully being a screw-up in class. That he was more than just some jackass college punk skating through his courses as the Professor perceived. It was for the very reason that Nate was my closest friend and that he wasn't a bad guy that I felt a little obligated to defend him in a way.

Professor Souza's eyes locked with mine for a moment, gaze intense and concentrated as if he were searching for something. I met their green abyss, bemused by that power he shared with Nate to see right through me, knowing I felt completely vulnerable and exposed when he did this. Yet, surprisingly, with Professor Souza, I found that I liked it in a way, where, if it were the latter of the two staring at me, I was left feeling more violated and uncomfortable.

"Huh." He merely rumbled after what felt like hours under his scrutiny. I exhaled a breath I hadn't been aware of holding as he stood, taking hold of his messenger bag and promptly hoisting it over his shoulder. Reluctant, I stood too, not really wanting our remaining time alone before two weeks free of school to end.

He gestured towards the door.

"You have to do something other than work over your break, Chloe." My Professor stated as we made our way to the exit.

"Well, there is this party for New Year's Eve that Nate was talking about."

Professor Souza stopped. I glanced up at him quizzically and he gave me a skeptical look.

"A college party? You don't seem like the type of person who would enjoy a pointless, college bash, Chloe."

He was right. Even throughout high school I often found excuses to get out of going to whatever party I was invited to. That was more Nate's sort of thing. Extremely loud and awful music, drinking and smoking teenagers desperate for the high and the escape from what they depict as their miserable lives, and any room that you'd think private or a getaway from the chaos taking place in the rest of the venue occupied by irresponsible, hormonally crazed kids?

Definitely not my scene.

However, when Nate asked me if I wanted to go over the last weekend, I didn't take much time to agree. I wanted the distraction from which I would inevitably be missing my calculus Professor as the break dragged on.

"I'm not. But Nate really wants to go. He's the party type, and I can't just leave him to go by himself."

Professor Souza nodded after a moment, then stretched out his hand in front of me. I looked at it, perplexed.

"Let me see you're notebook." He rumbled simplistically.

Still perturbed, I reached into my book bag and surfaced my notebook and a pen. Professor Souza flipped it open and started to scribble something on the corner of the first page as he said, "If you're going to do something stupid, at least be smart about it."

"What do you mean-" I started to ask, standing up on my tiptoes, trying to pear over the front of the notebook in order to see what he was writing. However, he finished quite quickly and handed it back to me. Examining what he had wrote, I felt my heart stagger a few beats and my brain screech to a halt, for what I found was his name- his full name- and seven digits.

"I'm not telling you to get into any trouble, but, if you insist on breaking the law, then call for a ride."

"But, Nate's of age." I said, still somewhat shocked by this gesture. He gave me a stern look.

"I'm talking about you, Chloe. I used to be a college student too, remember? I know what happens at those parties and, though I don't encourage it, I'm not going to put it past even you to do something reckless."

"I can wait three months to drink," I muttered defensively. But, even if my twenty- first birthday was just a few months away, I'd be lying if I claimed that I had never had alcohol before. Professor Souza was right. He wasn't stupid and he was offering his help so that I wouldn't get myself into trouble.

He was looking out for me.

The idea itself sent my stomach into a fit of hysterics and my mind into overdrive, analyzing what it could possibly mean.

"You say that now." Professor Souza smirked. "And then, as you're dealing with a killer migraine the next morning, you tell yourself that you're never going to drink again. Both very misleading claims."

I laughed, grateful for Professor Souza's ability to just say something that would bring me back to Earth and keep me somewhat grounded when my girlish brain was anything but.

"Alright, I get it. Thank you, Professor Souza. I promise I won't get into any trouble."

He gave me my newest favorite feature of his. That small, crooked smile, and opened his mouth to say something. However, when he started to speak, he was interrupted by a new voice filling the classroom.

"So, this is where all the magic happens."

We both glanced towards the door of Professor Souza's classroom and I felt my heart drop to the pit of my stomach while a knot formed in my throat. All happy thoughts of Professor Souza giving me his phone number and expressing concern for my wellbeing shattered in the wake of our visitor's leering expression.

Professor Banks.

"What do you want, Royce?" Professor Souza questioned calmly, tone void of emotion. From his smile to his signature, displeased scowl I was reunited with the fact that Professor Souza didn't like Professor Banks. At all. Since my encounter with the arts instructor before Thanksgiving, I had almost forgotten that the two had a mysterious past I knew nothing about and, to say the least, I was ten times more wary of Professor Banks' sudden reoccurrence.

What was he doing here?

Said man was leaning against the door frame, hands stuffed in his pockets per usual as he smirked our way. I repressed a shudder- though he seemed to show little interest- as his brown eyes met mine, holding them in a taunting manner, almost implying,_ 'Fancy seeing you here spending so much time with my dear college buddy, Ms. Chloe Saunders.' _

Then he seemed to get bored as he matched Professor Souza's hard gaze with more attentiveness, tossing me aside like a toy he could care less about.

"Come on, Derek. That's no way to greet an old friend." He teased, eyes flashing menacingly.

Professor Souza snorted and took a slight step forward, somehow slipping himself between me and Professor Banks.

"Friend? That's news to me, _Professor_. Last I checked, you were informing the board of my inability to be a fitting mentor." Professor Souza rumbled lowly. "Explain to me the significance of friendship in that."

I watched Professor Souza questioningly. Is that what had happened between them? Were they actually friends in college and then, when they were both applying to teach at the same University, had Professor Banks gone behind Professor Souza's back to keep the latter from getting the job?

With Royce's vindictive personality and Professor Souza's warnings for me to be cautious of the arts Professor in concern of being hurt, I had an inkling that there was far more to it than that.

Professor Banks gave a short, sharp laugh and pushed away from the door frame, striding into the classroom uninvited. Professor Souza moved more in front of me, playing it off as if wanting to meet his unwelcomed guest's advance, but I knew full well that he was trying to keep me out of the situation. And the situation was definitely beginning the brew. I could feel the tension rising in the suddenly crowded room.

"How's your old man, Souza? Has he been working hard lately?" Professor Banks asked casually, tone suggesting he could really care less.

"What's it to you?" Professor Souza questioned, his demeanor just as placate as Royce's though noticeably forced. "Worried? Been feeling a little anxious nowadays?"

I staggered my glance between the two, struggling to piece together what they were going on about, remembering everything that Professor Souza had said about this man.

And then a thought occurred to me.

If Professor Banks had some sort of connection with Professor Souza's father, the lawyer, then something must have happened that was relevant to the law. And I had this unsettling feeling that it was something bad.

"Want to know something, Derek?" Professor Banks asked, tone light with a dark sense of mirth.

"I have nothing to be afraid of. You and your father have nothing on me because there is nothing on me."

"Is that the reason you're here then? To reiterate that?" The math instructor questioned, the inflection in his voice expressing that he didn't give a damn what Royce had to say. And Professor Banks caught this.

For the first time since he had entered the room, Royce frowned.

"Rude as ever, aren't we?"

When Professor Souza said nothing, Professor Banks rolled his eyes and turned back towards the door.

"And just as boring." He added passively.

I felt a wave of relief wash through me as he made to leave. However, the feeling was short-lived when he paused at the door and turned his attention back to us.

"Happy holidays."

His eyes flickered to mine briefly and he smirked.

"Have a nice break, Chloe."

**I wish I could just give out the next four chapters to you guys. They're drastic plot changers. But, where is the suspence in that? **

**There's only one way you're going to get them. ;)**

**Review please!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note- Long chapter for you all so enjoy it while it lasts. Not sure when the next one of this length will be. :) I feel like I've been gone for a while, but I had just updated a week ago. Maybe it's because I have been stuck on Youtube for the past two weeks. Ah well. Working on a One-Shot for cristinaice at the moment, and should have it out later today or tomorrow. More than likely tomorrow. :)**

**Also, as an extra note, I did, in fact, change my username again. I did this mainly to match my other social sites so that no one would suspect them of being fakes. You guys can now follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter, and Youtube using this username. Deviantart is still under Alasyn Eletha because it won't allow me to change the name until July. :p**

**If you guys haven't already, go read chapter 29 of Never Alone by xSweetEternityx. It's by far my favorite Darkest Powers fic right now. :D**

**Anyways, enjoy!**

**Forbidden**

**Party**

"I'm just amazed that I was able to find it, Chloe. Were you surprised?"

I smiled into the receiver of my cell phone at the delighted tone in my Aunt Lauren's voice, all the while caressing possibly my most precious possession that hung loosely around my neck, it being the subject of Aunt Lauren's excitement.

"I couldn't believe my eyes. I thought I would never see it again."

The trinket was an amulet I had been given by my mother before she passed away and was something I had worn every day since. That is, until I lost in a transition between my Aunt's apartment and my Dad's as he was just starting to get sponsored trips to Europe when I had turned fifteen. I had been so disparaged for months after I lost it and, though Aunt Lauren promised that she would find it someday, I lost all hope after about six months.

The ruby red amulet had been all but forgotten and forever lost to me, until the day before, when I took Christmas day as the greatest opportunity to open the gifts Dad and Aunt Lauren had sent to me.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so glad to hear that you're happily reunited with it. I feel simply terrible that I can't spend your break from school with you."

I would have shrugged indifferently if not for the fact that I was merely speaking with her over the phone as I was on my break at the diner and she was still working at her hospital in Albany.

I settled instead for a half-hearted, "Don't worry about it, Aunt Lauren. I'm using the time to pick up some extra credit for a few of my courses and some extra hours at Michael's. We're both busy."

"You don't have to put up a brave front, Chloe. Maybe if Steve hadn't always been away on business while you were growing up-"

"Give him a break, Aunt Lauren." I mumbled with a roll of my eyes. She would never openly admit it, but Aunt Lauren didn't much care for the man her sister had married. At least, that's what I perceived since as long as I could remember, which mostly occurred in patterns after Mom had died when I actually paid more attention to the way Dad and Aunt Lauren behaved around each other.

Making a long story short, I just think that Aunt Lauren believes that Dad dwells solely on my absent mother and altogether gave up trying once she was gone, burying himself into his work as a distraction and a way to cope. Unlike my bitter Aunt, however, I couldn't blame the man.

Though there was a post-Christmas glow about the city and I was, in fact, delighted to be reunited with my mother's amulet, I didn't feel up to playing the devil's advocate as Aunt Lauren insisted on berating my father. I found myself extremely grateful to hear the sound of the entrance bell chime in welcome of one of the few customers to enter the diner this slow morning, regardless of whether I was on my break or not.

Even more, I was extremely pleased to see that said customer was Professor Souza.

"Listen, Aunt Lauren. Thanks again for the Christmas gift, I couldn't ask for anything more, but I have to get back to work," I muttered in a rush, eyes following my calculus Professor's back as he sat at a table on the other end of the diner without noticing myself occupying the otherwise empty restaurant.

"But, I thought you said that you just started your break?" She questioned incredulously.

"I'll have to finish it later, I have customers. Love you." I didn't even wait for her to reply as I clicked my phone shut and slipped myself out of my booth.

I was somewhat abashed to admit that I had been more than simply dissatisfied at the idea of not being able to see Professor Souza for two whole weeks as he said he was going to spend his holiday with his family a good four hours away in Syracuse. And though I was pleasantly surprised by his presence, I wondered why he wasn't there now.

In fact, as I made my way across the diner towards his table to greet him, I couldn't help but notice his slumped shoulders and his seemingly irate and aggravated aura.

He looked exhausted.

The air about him felt similar to that of when we had parted ways before the Christmas break had started. After our run-in with Royce. That afternoon, he had insisted on escorting me out to my car and, if it were under different circumstances, I would have blushed and relished in the idea. He had been taut and rigid, however, and his faraway expression conveyed that his mind was off somewhere else as he uttered a half-hearted, _'Have a good holiday, Chloe.'_

_Is he still worked up about that?_

I decided to stop by the brewing station before I reached him and started pouring his regular order of black coffee, hoping to deliver it to him before he even had to order it. However, I was interrupted by a shadow passing over me and a dark hand reaching around and snatching the coffee mug from my grasp once I had finished pouring the piping hot Joe.

"Girl, you're supposed to be on break. I can handle the customer."

I turned to meet the amber eyes and copper curls of my co-worker, Rachelle. Her and I weren't the greatest of friends but we usually got along well enough and were roughly the same age. She worked a lot more hours here at the diner than I did, taking up most of the weekday shifts as she took evening classes at the local community college. In which case, she could get pretty bossy and pushy at times.

For a moment, I thought she was generally concerned with the fact that I wasn't taking advantage of my break time. That is until I saw her eyes dart towards Professor Souza's unsuspecting position while he was tiredly skimming over the menu, dark orbs flashing in a light I didn't find myself too comfortable with.

"Besides," She began as an extra note, a confident smirk tugging at her lips. "Tall, dark and sexy is my regular."

She said this as if we were two high school girls standing at the far end of the hallway, gossiping about the cute, popular guy while he rummaged through his locker. It was less of the inclination of her words than the idea that sent my insides into an angry boil of a strange emotion I wasn't quite used to. I didn't think that she was purposefully being snobbish or even seemingly possessive, but I knew she was speaking the truth about Professor Souza's regular visits during the week as he had informed me himself.

And I was jealous.

Surprised with myself, I resolved to an indifferent demeanor and retrieved the coffee mug from her grip as she eyed Professor Souza with a wanting glow. She turned to me with a questioning and almost agitated look.

"Actually, he's a friend of mine and I've been waiting for him. He's my regular on Saturdays."

"Yeah?" Rae quizzed, left brow rising as if I were lying. "What's his usual order then?"

Now she definitely came across as possessive.

I set the coffee mug on the counter, grabbed two sugar packets and a small creamer dispenser. I emptied the contents of the two and stirred the coffee until the color was evenly lighter. Rae glared and mumbled something unintelligible before stalking off to sweep the lobby.

I smiled triumphantly and made my way to Professor Souza's table. He was no longer looking over the menu but staring out the window upon the bustling city. I couldn't help wondering what had him so fixated and tired looking. Maybe it had nothing to do with Professor Banks. After all, the encounter had passed almost a week ago. Had something happened with his family? Had he been unable to make it to his father's place to meet up with them for Christmas?

Deciding it was better to ask the questions myself instead of merely going through the loop of them in my head, I placed the coffee in front of my calculus Professor and slid into the booth opposite of him.

He jumped, startled out of whatever bunny trail his thoughts had taken and took notice of the coffee before his eyes bounced to mine. He had this contradicting look of being both wary and yet seemingly pleased to see me.

"You look like you needed it." I said softly, gesturing to the coffee. He mumbled his thanks and took a sip.

"I'm almost afraid to ask you how your Christmas was." I tried to keep my tone light, but the longer he remained silent, the more worry started to brew in my stomach.

_Had something awful happened?_

However, Professor Souza took in my expression and chuckled lightly, shaking his head, allowing me to release a breath of relief that my terrible suspicions were wrong.

"Is it normal for diner waitresses to bring their customers coffee and play therapist as if they work at a bar around here?" He questioned, his smirk replacing his tired features.

"Technically, I'm not your waitress." I stated in a mockingly condescending tone. "I'm on my break and Rae looked like she was about to eat you."

Professor Souza glanced back towards the breakfast bar to find that Rachelle was occasionally sending watchful looks our way before turning back to me with a roll of his eyes.

"No offense to the employees here, but if this wasn't my favorite restaurant since I was a kid, waitresses like her would keep me from coming regularly."

I laughed, mostly because I was now finding my previous jealousy towards Rae somewhat silly. If anything, I should have known better than to think anything significant of Rachelle's previous words as I had witnessed on many occasions girls acting in similar ways around Professor Souza, in which he merely shot them down.

"I'm pleased to see that you got some more hours, however. It's refreshing to have some adequate customer service every now again when I make my visits here." He added after another sip of his coffee.

"I thought I just told you that I'm not your waitress." I stated, which earned a snort in response.

"That's right. You're my counselor today." His green eyes softened a little and that exhausted look returned. "Very well, I'll bite. My Christmas was good enough. But I couldn't see myself staying in Syracuse any longer than necessary."

"Why not?"

I found that after spending roughly four weeks with a more open and approachable Professor Souza that it was easier to pry here and there to get more details out of him. Once again I could depict that the man clad in baggy jeans and a dark blue sweatshirt sitting before me was not my instructor, but simply just Derek Souza. Somebody I could see becoming a close friend instead of solely being my mentor.

And, surprisingly, Derek didn't appear to mind my growing nosiness. At least, not since the Thanksgiving weekend. He almost seemed to welcome it, as if he resolved to be less reclusive.

Derek cocked his head to the side with a roll of his eyes, his right pointer finger running absently along the lip of his coffee mug.

"Let's just say the pleasantries of me visiting home was short-lived."

"I don't understand," I said, tone amused due to his annoyed demeanor. Derek shrugged after another swig of his coffee. He really seemed to be going to town with it and I wouldn't be surprised if he were to ask for another cup here soon.

"Have you ever done something that you wouldn't normally do and then get shit for it by your friends or your family?" He asked, reminding me of his colorful vocabulary and coming across younger than I perceived him to be.

I could think of something more recently, where Nate was constantly badgering me and Liz's behavior towards our math and arts Professors. But it was more of him showing his displeasure than teasing us about it. I could only imagine Professor Souza's siblings taunting him if he had done something out of character.

"Who hasn't?" I questioned. "But it's mostly because they're unwilling to express what's really on their mind when it comes down to it. Either they're worried about you or happy to see some kind of change, you know?"

"I suppose," Derek mumbled, finishing his brew.

"Here, let me get you some more." I stood and grabbed his mug.

He shook his head. "You don't have to, Chloe. You said you weren't my waitress today."

I gave him a smirk.

"I'm not doing it as your waitress."

Before I could retreat to poor him some more coffee, I noticed something catch his attention and he pointed towards my chest. Confused, I glanced down to see if he had spotted something obscure on my wardrobe, but only found my mother's amulet nestled against my collarbone.

"That's new, isn't it?"

I touched the red jewel tenderly and smiled.

"Not really. My mother gave it to me a long time ago, but I lost it in a move when I was fifteen. My Aunt came across it and gave it to me as a Christmas present."

I looked up and was surprised to meet the solemn expression in his eyes. I wondered for a half second why he suddenly fell so sympathetic when I realized that, somehow, he must already know that my Mom wasn't around. He had access to that kind of information as a Professor and I could recall him informing me that he had read my record in order to see my past achievements. I'm sure it was stated somewhere that my mother was deceased.

He opened his mouth to say something but I held up my hand to stop him.

"I'm sure you already know, Professor-"

"Derek." He interrupted. I started, somewhat taken aback. Of course he had asked me to call him by his first name before, however, I never have. Not out loud, at least.

"D-Derek," I stammered shyly. I felt my cheeks heat and I did my best to continue. "I just want you to know that it's okay. My mother passed away a long time ago. Of course I miss her, but, there is nothing anyone can do about it and I've come to accept that. If anything, getting my necklace back, I feel closer to her now more than ever."

After a moment where Derek seemed lost in thought, the storm of empathy that I didn't really want ebbed and he gave me a small smile.

"I think I'll take some more of that coffee now."

Derek only stayed long enough to finish his second cup of coffee and the conversation from that point on remained pretty light. He didn't go back into detail as to what his family had berated him about while he visited them for the holiday, nor did he dwell on the subject of my deceased mother.

He stopped by the diner a couple more times over the following week. Only, I didn't get to spend any of that time with him as I had that day. Either Rae raced to serve him before I could, or Nate intercepted my attention as he hung around the restaurant while I worked.

To say the least, I couldn't wait for class to resume as well as our study seminars so that I could have a legitimate excuse to be alone with him again.

When the last day of the year approached, I closed up the diner early and made it back to my dorm room by seven, taking the spare time that I had to get ready for the party Nate was dragging me to. Though I had agreed to go, the closer it came to actually attending, the less I wanted to. In retrospect, the only real business I had to going was to keep an eye on Nate as he was bound to get sloppy drunk.

I settled for a green blouse that Aunt Lauren had also sent me for Christmas and a pair of skinny jeans and topped off my outfit with brown, lace-up leather boots. I kept my hair simple and left it down, the tresses falling in their natural wave to my mid-back. I noticed that it was probably time to get it trimmed before it got too long. I didn't mind the length, but it didn't help that, with my baby face and height, it made me look more like a fifteen year old than a twenty year old.

I was applying a simple coat of mascara when there was a thunderous rap on my door.

"Chloe? Get your ass out here before I have to drag you out myself! It's party time!"

I rolled my eyes at my best friend's antics.

_Great. He's already had a few drinks._

I grabbed my jacket from the closet and opened the door to be greeted by Nate's huge grin and slightly flushed cheeks.

"Finally! Ready for this? I heard that this was the party of the year last New Year's."

"Let's get this over with," I mumbled, closing my door behind me as I followed him down the hall.

Personally, I wasn't a fan of Liam Malloy. I didn't know him on a personal level, but I didn't have to in order to know that he was a dick. He was a senior at NYU and I shared my Tuesday and Thursday political science class with him. I was also aware that he was in the follow-on class to Professor Souza's second year calculus course meaning I often ran into him after I was leaving my own math class.

Though it was mostly because he was simply an asshole, Liam was somewhat of a head honcho on campus. He was tall, athletic as he played for the college's football team, and had a loud personality. He didn't have a problem smooth talking just about anyone, especially girls. What with his long, dirty blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, generous build, strict features, charming southern drawl and alluring blue eyes, he didn't really have to try so hard.

With that being said, he didn't have to try so hard to throw wild parties either.

I found myself getting extremely annoyed with the atmosphere as I sat on a barstool at the island in the kitchen of Liam's parent's suburban home. With Liz being occupied by her heavy make-out session with Peter and Nate off rough housing with some of his friends, I wondered what the hell I was even doing at this party.

Even the few drinks that I had weren't helping the noise or the fact that I was bored out of my mind.

"Well, if it isn't Chloe Saunders." Speak of the devil.

I glanced up from playing a pointless game of Angry Birds on my smart phone to see none other than the man of the hour smirking back at me from across the island.

"Liam." I greeted, tone simple and void of emotion before I returned to my game.

"Didn't think you were the kind of girl who liked to party, cutie." His accent was slurred worse from no doubt an excess of alcohol consumption and, as I've had a few drinks of my own and knew to be particularly irate when intoxicated, I decided I didn't really care for being polite at the moment.

I tossed him a, _'Does it look like I like to party,'_ look.

Liam chuckled and took a swig of one of the two beers he had in his hands before grabbing one of the bar stools and dragging it around the island to sit next to me.

"I'm not interested in any company, Liam."

I had learned back in high school how to communicate with guys like Liam as I had a bully of similar caliber back then. I couldn't be the soft spoken, stuttering shy girl that I used to be. I had to be blunt and firm, show them that they had no power or intimidation over me.

"Come on, Chloe. I just want to talk."

Slipping my phone into my back pocket, I glanced at him skeptically, finding that he was acting suspiciously civil. He only grinned and held up the fuller bottle of beer he had to me.

"Here, have a drink."

He couldn't seriously think that I was that stupid. I don't know how many other girls he's tricked into getting drunk and doing whatever he was pleased to do with them, but I've seen enough movies and seen plenty in high school in general not to fall for his bullshit ruses. Who knows if he's added something to that drink?

"No thanks. I've got my own."

I grabbed my own beer from the counter and slid off my bar stool. When my feet touched the ground, I wobbled slightly, now feeling those drinks I had since I was no longer immobile. I refused to let Liam see that, though, and brushed passed him to leave the kitchen.

"Don't be like that, cutie-" Liam started, his fingers brushing against my upper arm as he made to halt me from leaving. I wrenched my arm away and glared at him, the movement executed so fast that the kitchen swayed a little.

"I said I'm not interested." I snapped, then turned and trudged into the sea of sweaty, swaying bodies that moved and grinded against each other in tune with the blaring music.

I shoved past a couple who seriously needed to learn the meaning of, _'Leave room for Jesus,' _and did my best to navigate my way out of the dining room and into the living room where I had last seen Nate who had been juggling with the idea of swinging from the chandelier at the time.

I found him dancing about on top of the rather expensive looking, beige colored sofa, bouncing up and down in order to reach aforementioned chandelier.

"Nate!" I called over the noise of the party, the strain at how loud I had to be causing my head to throb a little.

Nate's bemused, blue eyes met mine at the sound of his name and he gave me a goofy grin, clearly far more intoxicated than I was. He leapt off the couch and staggered his way over to me.

"Isn't this awesome, Chlo? I'm having a fucking blast!"

"I want to go home." I said- shouted- ignoring his excitement. He gave me a disbelieving look and pointed at the beer in my hand.

"You haven't even finished your drink, Chloe."

I rolled my eyes and made a show of chugging the rest of my beer before setting the bottle on the coffee table littered with other containers of alcoholic beverages. Nate blinked away his surprise and crossed his arms.

"You have to have more than one drink-"

"That was my fifth, Nate." I interrupted, hardly showing concern for the way the words simply spilled from my lips in a slurred mess. "I want to go home."

"But," Nate protested, his tone almost whining. "It's not even midnight yet. We have to at least wait until the New Year."

"Well then, you're going to have to find another girl to kiss after the countdown. I'm not staying." I turned to leave, dreading the idea that I had to push through the swarm of drunken college students once again. However, Nate grabbed my wrist. I met his gaze again, wondering briefly if he was actually going to leave with me. Only, I found his eyes burn with a light of something akin to eagerness and hope.

He smiled, dimples coming to life within his flushed cheeks and asked, "You were going to kiss me for New Years?"

I gave him a look that informed him that I was being sarcastic and asked if he was coming with me or not. Disappointment overpowered his expression and I chalked it up to him being drunk. As if he would really want me to kiss him once the clocked stroke midnight.

He informed me that he would find his own taxi once the New Year was introduced and I left him back to his stupid quest to swing from the chandelier. I wasn't worried about it; the lighting fixture was far too high for him to reach regardless.

By the time I made it to the front door, I had been pushed and tossed about so much that I couldn't quite seem to walk or see straight. That or perhaps the five beers I had. I've learned before that I can handle my alcohol, but the combination of my small frame, not too much to eat in the last several hours and the five drinks I had consumed? I was definitely more or less drunk.

I cursed, having not planned on drinking whatsoever. Nate and I had ridden in a taxi to get to the party, not wanting to repeat the incident where he narrowly escaped throwing up in my car the last time he had gottten drunk. I refused to risk it. But, I also hadn't planned on leaving the party alone.

I vaguely remembered a recent conversation where someone told me to call them if I needed to during this party. Hell, I even remembered being so excited about receiving said person's phone number that I instantly programmed it into my phone. However, for the life of me, I couldn't remember who it was at the moment.

As I staggered across the front lawn of Liam's parent's place, I reached for my back pocket to retrieve my phone in hopes of jumpstarting my memory of whose number I had received and getting myself away from this damned party. But, as my fingers grazed the slick plastic of my phone, something suddenly gripped my upper arm- tightly, might I add- and yanked me backwards.

I yelped and blindly grabbed for whoever it was that had a hold of me to steady myself before I could fall. As I turned to meet someone's chest as well as found an unstable balance on my wobbly legs, I glared up at my captor in annoyance.

The bitter retort I was ready to release was cut short, frozen as my mind registered who belonged to said chest and hand still wrapped in a death grip around my miniscule bicep.

"What do you think you're doing, Chloe?"

"I-I-" I stammered, desperately searching for my words and previous blunt tone but vainly. The alcohol in my system made my reactions slow and I had a hard time processing that, not only was this current situation bad, but what I could do to get out of it.

It also didn't help much that I was staring into the predatory gleaming, blue eyes of Liam Malloy.

"So you think you can just brush me off so rudely at my party and then leave without even saying goodbye, cutie?"

"L-Liam, let go. You're h-hurting my arm." I shoved hard against him and he released me. However, as he slid his hands into his pockets, he remained uncomfortably close. He bent forward slightly. Enough so that I could smell the alcohol on his breath as it fanned across my cheeks.

_Not good._

"You're so impolite tonight, Chloe, and you could say that it's pissing me off. So I suggest that you stick around a little longer. Have some fun."

I opened my mouth to give him a fairly impatient and rude, _'No thanks,'_ but was cut off as another voice interrupted and spoke for me.

"And I suggest that you back off and get back to your party, Mr. Malloy. Before I decide to call the cops and inform them that your providing alcohol to minors and God knows what else is going on in your house."

I didn't have to see him in order to know who the threat belonged to, for I had obsessed over the rough texture of that voice for months and would be able to recognize it anywhere. Liam and I glanced towards the street where Derek stood, leaning against a small black sedan with his arms crossed, sporting a disapproving grimace being shot in Liam's particular direction.

For a minute, it was silent between the two as they stared each other down, Derek- well, more of Professor Souza firm with authority and Liam with a desire for defiance. Through my muddled brain, I could barely make out that Liam was stubbornly fighting against the instinct that told him to stand down, as if he really wanted to challenge Professor Souza like he was just another college kid his age. But, despite what I personally believed, Liam was smarter than that and knew better, even in his intoxicated state.

So, Liam backed down, muttering something about, _'Lame ass teachers crashing his party,'_ before sulking back up to his house. When I was sure that he was gone, I turned, a smile and gratitude on my lips.

Until I saw his expression.

I met Professor Souza's hard and disapproving gaze. The steely and looming look in his green eyes made me feel like a misbehaved puppy that had just piddled all over his new slippers. However, even if he seemed about to give me shit- though what he had just stepped into had clearly been Liam's fault- I couldn't help questioning what he was even doing here. So I asked him.

Professor Souza closed his eyes and released a tired sigh. He held out his hand calmly, in it his smart phone, the screen showcasing that it was in the middle of a phone conversation. I recognized my own number and that the duration of the call was close to twenty-four minutes.

Confused, as my mind just wouldn't allow anything to particularly click at the moment, I reached into my back pocket and found a familiar screen informing me that I was, in fact, in the middle of a quarter of an hour phone call with Derek Souza.

"Oh. I must have pocket dialed you." I stated lamely, my memory doing me the favor of reminding me who it was I was supposed to call if I needed any help at this party.

"Yeah, I got that." Professor Souza rumbled, tone hard. "Come on. I'm taking you back to your dorm."

I'm sure that, if I were sober, I would have made a more rebellious effort against the tone he was using with me. Like I was his dumbass teenage child who had got caught sneaking out of the house. I might have even questioned the idea of getting into the car with my calculus Professor, though, I knew whole-heartedly that I wanted to, it still didn't shake the fact that, even if we had a seemingly more personal relationship than student and teacher, he was still just that. My teacher.

However, none of that registered, and I immediately jumped into the passenger side of his sedan as he held the door open for me, desperate to get as far from this damned party as possible.

**Whew! This one took a while to actually get on paper. :D I liked writing it though. Mostly because you can see just how much closer Derek and Chloe are getting. ;) **

**I don't care for the fact that this chapter turned out so long, but I know it's good for you guys. Also, I never planned to use Liam in this story, as I've used him as an antagonist far too much. But this is probably the worst you guys will see of him. I'll slip Liam in the story here and there in the future, but he's not the sole bad guy. So, who wants to show me their love? You know what to do!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note- Early Friday update since I'll be busy in Vegas again this weekend. I'll be heading to the Rio hotel for the Salute to Supernatural convention. Is anyone else going to this? I'll be all by myself. :/ I'm excited to meet the actors and all, but I'm not too thrilled with the idea of hanging out in Las Vegas again.**

**Now, before the chapter starts, I want to say something that I've probably already said several times since this fic started. Be patient! Calm yourselves- I'd start swearing here, but that's not really going to help me get my point across. No matter how much I am pushed towards forcing to make something happen between Chloe and Professor Souza, I am NOT going to rush their relationship. Especially considering how fragile their predicament is. You know, the whole teacher/ student thing. I can guarantee that the update will come where we'll all get the Chlerek we so desperately want. But not at this present time. **

**These two can't be rushed. It took until the third book in the series for them to realize what they meant to each other and, if anyone was a diehard Chlerek fan, then they waited patiently for it. That's all that I ask you guys to do here.**

**Aside from this, let's stir up some shit in the plot, shall we?**

**Forbidden **

**Missing**

It wasn't an alarm clock, a rap on my door, or even noisy dorm neighbors that woke me up New Year's Day. It was the relentless throbbing against my temple. I groaned out a whine of displeasure and tried as hard as I could muster in my exhausted state to welcome back sleep. However, the incessant pounding against my head left it nearly impossible to drift off again.

I carefully opened my eyes, wary of the light I was bound to meet since I left my shades open every night. However, I was greeted with a dim darkness in my dorm room. I glanced up at my window to find that the shades were actually shut.

_Did I do that?_

Come to think of it, not only couldn't I recall if I had drunkenly closed my blinds last night- I do remember having been drunk- but I couldn't remember having gotten to my room in the first place.

Against my headache, I tried to search my memory for what had occurred the night before. I was able to back track my steps from closing up the diner, taking a taxi with Nate to the party, getting sick of the party and Liam's advances and letting Nate know that I was heading home, having an uncomfortable encounter with Liam in his front yard which had been interrupted by Professor Souza and-

I shot up so fast at the thought of Professor Souza that my room swayed and my head exploded in a fit of unpleasant drumming against my skull. I had to catch myself with my elbows against the mattress before I fully collapsed back into my bed.

When the headache died down to a dull thud once again, I carefully sat up all the way and took a few deep and even breaths. After a minute or so I returned to my mission to figure out just how I had gotten home from the party last night and how Professor Souza was involved.

I remembered him being mad at me and then telling me that he was going to take me home. But, no matter how hard I tried to recall the events after I had gotten into his car, I simply couldn't. It was all muddled and fuzzy and it hurt to think too hard about it.

With a sigh of defeat, I decided to put the matter aside for later. I had a new mission to get to.

Find out what time it was and get ready for my evening shift at the diner.

I glanced over towards my bedside table, thinking that the answer would be found on my alarm clock. I found more than just the time there, however. Sitting on top of the table was a water bottle, a packet of Emergen-C and a folded piece of paper. I reached for it tentatively and found small, scribbled and familiar script as its contents.

_Chloe,_

_Drink the Emergen-C to replenish some vitamins and avoid Tylenol unless you want to kill your liver. Try not to stay in bed all day. Exercise helps. See you in class on Monday._

_-D_

I felt my cheeks and neck flush but not from embarrassment. Whatever had happened last night, I knew this much. Derek had taken care of me. When he had offered me his phone number in the first place, I had thought that he was just trying to keep me from getting in trouble with irresponsible things like drinking underage. After all, he had been in my shoes before and had made the same mistakes. But, though I couldn't recall how I came to this conclusion, what Derek did for me last night seemed a lot more than keeping me out of trouble.

Unable and unwilling to fight the smile that inched across my face from ear to ear, I mixed up the Emergen-C and clambered out of bed. I had slept through the morning and it was nearing two in the afternoon. My shift started half past three and I had to take a taxi to avoid driving if I still had the smallest amount of alcohol in my system. That didn't leave me much time to mosey about in a hangover stupor.

So, after chugging the citrus flavored drink, I stripped myself of the clothes I had warn to the party and hopped in the shower, using my own hangover remedy and alternating between cold and hot water to wake up my unhappy and threateningly uncooperative body.

* * *

When I figured that I would be taking Derek's advice as far as getting some exercise, I was thinking more along the lines of a slow day at work. Boy, had I been painfully wrong.

Usually, after a holiday, the diner always seemed almost dead form lack of customers. However, I should have known better after the previous year. Michael's diner was a popular post party/ hangover cure hotspot. For some, the perfect hangover remedy was a greasy meal. For me, it only made my nausea worse, but, to each his own I suppose. So, the diner was bustling as if it were a normal business day and, like a normal business day, there was supposed to be two cooks and three waitresses on shift.

Marcus and Conner were accounted for, burning up the kitchen as they rushed to cook the onslaught of orders. Then there was Beth and I handling the customers and taking their orders. Unfortunately, though, we were missing our third waitress.

Rae.

"Did she call in or anything?" I asked Beth as we were grabbing plates from the pickup window. Beth was working an open to close shift, so she would've known if Rachelle had decided to call in for work and inform us that she wasn't going to make her shift.

The dark haired girl shook her head and replied, "I checked the work phone and even my cell phone. I haven't heard from her all day. But, she's almost an hour late for her shift. Maybe we should call Michael."

"No, Michael doesn't like being bothered by this kind of stuff if we can solve the problem ourselves." Even if he was the owner of the diner, he didn't show his face around the establishment all that much. "Just call in Brent to cover her shift."

When we had called up the only other guy that worked at the diner besides the cooks, he claimed that he wouldn't be able to make it to the diner until at least six. Beth explained that that was roughly the point when the diner got its dinner rush, so we would be able to survive without him until then. I asked him to get here as soon as he could regardless because, whether it was currently a rush or not, the diner was pact.

Beth and I handled our own the best we could and the customers seemed pretty understanding of the circumstances. Most of the people that came to the diner were regulars and they normally appreciated our service or else they would have stopped coming back. So they were merciful on us.

Nate showed up about twenty minutes after we had called Brent and he even joked that maybe he should pick up an apron and help us out if we were willing to pay him.

"For the time being, Beth and I have all the customer's orders delivered to them, so things should slow down for a bit before dinner. Thanks for the offer though."

Nate laughed and pulled out a barstool at the breakfast bar. He sat next to an elderly man reading over a paper and sipping on a cup of coffee. I took the slight break that I had to give Nate a quick once over for any of the symptoms I had felt a couple hours before due to my excess drinking from the previous night. Only, Nate looked perfectly fine save for the slight shadow beneath his blue eyes.

"How is it that you never get any hangovers after parties like that?" I questioned skeptically.

I offered Nate a free water as I normally did and he took it with a shrug.

"I guess I've become more tolerant over the years."

"You're only twenty-two." I pointed out and he gave me a, _'Be serious,'_ look. Of course Nate has had alcohol long before he turned twenty-one, but not as much as he has now.

"I just prepare for them, Chloe. Of course, I'm not tiny and I eat more than half the plate I fix up for myself." Nate jabbed. I scowled at him. So what if I ate in moderation? Like he was implying, I was small and couldn't eat an entire pizza in one sitting like him and some of his friends.

"I guess my metabolism tolerates alcohol more than yours does."

"You know, the majority of the girls in our classes would kill for your metabolism."

It was true. Nate wasn't the scrawny kid he had been back during our freshman year of high school. He'd hit his growth spurt at sixteen and his previously lanky build had toned out since then. Even if he could eat and drink enough to the point that would make someone my size spontaneously combust, he remained fit with lean muscle and chiseled features.

Nate rolled his eyes at my comment before passing me a curious look.

"So, how did you get home last night? You missed one hell of a party."

"Yeah?" I questioned, feigning obvious mock interest. "How much of that party did you spend trying to reach that chandelier?"

Nate flushed, his cheeks turning a similar shade to that of his hair as he mumbled something along the lines of, _'I forgot about that,'_ before clearing his throat unnecessarily and pushing on.

"But seriously though, Chloe. If I had a hard time getting a taxi at two in the morning, I can't imagine you being able to catch one before midnight. With everyone partying in the city, I was surprised I got away with only having to hand the driver a fifty."

I shrugged and told him that I had gotten a ride from a friend. When he looked about to ask me what friend, the elderly man sitting next to him interrupted.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you mind turning on the news for me on that television set up there?"

I glanced up to the old TV the diner had hanging over the breakfast bar and wondered, since we didn't use it very often, if Michael kept up on the bill to keep the local cable channels on. I informed the man of this but told him I would give it a try. I reached for the remote beside the brewing station and clicked on the TV. When it confirmed that we still, in fact, had the cable hooked up, I changed it to the local news that aired every day at five.

"Thank you, miss." The elderly man said gingerly and I nodded politely before the anchor's next words caught my attention.

"-young woman by the name of Rachelle Rodgers was reported missing this morning by her roommate and several of her friends."

I blanched and my head whipped up to the television so fast that it could have caused whiplash.

"Hey, doesn't she work here with you, Chloe?" Nate asked.

"Sshh!" I hissed, snatching up the remote once again and turning up the set just as the screen shifted from the news anchor to a female reporter standing beside a local policeman.

"Can you tell us what you know so far?" The young reporter asked. The policeman merely shook his head and crossed his arms.

"I'm afraid that the only information that we have is that she was supposed to meet with several of her friends last night for a New Year's Eve party and, when they came to her apartment looking for her, her roommate claimed that she hadn't seen Ms. Rodgers since the previous day. They filed their report this morning when they couldn't come in contact with her."

"Does anyone know where she was last seen?" The reporter inquired.

I froze. The day before New Year's Eve had been a Sunday, which she had spent working an open to close shift here. As I had closed with her, we walked each other out to our respective cars since Marcus had finished up and left earlier. She hadn't had a shift the next day.

Was it possible? Had I been the last one to see Rae before she was suspected of going missing?

I don't know how long I stood there, blindly watching the screen as they showed an old yearbook photo of Rae and expressed that if anyone saw her to report to the police immediately. I felt numb, though, as my brain filtered through the millions of possibilities as to what could have happened to Rae that night, just after I had left. Had she been abducted? Or was she simply- best case scenario- off hanging out with another friend and forgot about all her other priorities.

The latter seemed the most unlikely.

"Um, hey there, Professor Souza. What're you doing here?" I heard Nate mumble cautiously. I snapped my gaze away from the television and found Derek's eyes just as he glanced away from the television as well. He was standing on the other side of Nate that wasn't occupied by the elderly man paying attention to the TV. I wondered when he had walked in and why he was even there if he had told me in his note he wouldn't see me until Monday.

However, as I deciphered the knowing and concerned look in his jade orbs, I knew why he was here.

He was confirming what he had also seen on the news.

Rachelle Rodgers was missing.

**Review Please!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note- So back when I left you guys, I had gone to Vegas. When I was at the airport waiting for my flight, I was lounging in the USO. It's a hang out place for people in the military as they wait for their transportation and has a bunch of free stuff. Anyways, the girl who was the volunteer's daughter recognized my name when I signed in. Alasyn Eletha Mabbitt. She asked me if I knew who Alasyn of Crimson Amethyst was. I was quite honestly surprised and I told her that was me but that I had recently changed my penname to Eletha Landon. She freaked. Though, instantly she jumped on me about Forbidden and started asking all these questions. I found it really flattering that she was so enthusiastic about my writing and actually cared about it and I did my best to answer all her questions without giving away too much of the plot.**

**Thanks Jesse. You're an amazing young woman and I had a great pleasure meeting you. I hope you see this shout out- and actually review every now and then you little stinker :p- I'm kidding, but you're good people and I had fun with our little conversation. :) It kind of inspired this desire to meet more of my followers, seeing as how I've never really come across that idea before.**

**Anyways. I'm sorry for the delay. After Vegas, I got really sick and then, after that, I had a time where I lacked motivation. I'm good now, and hopefully I'll be returning to my weekly updates. This chapter is even a bit longer for your guys' long wait. ;) Thanks so much for waiting patiently guys. I appreciate it. :)**

**Enjoy!**

**Forbidden**

**Mistaken**

Before I could say anything to him, Professor Souza's phone went off. He looked between it and me before resolving to answer it and exiting the diner.

"What the hell was that all about?" Nate questioned, staring after Professor Souza with a confused and somewhat irked look. I only wished that I wasn't asking the same question myself.

Later that evening, the police came in and asked to speak with everyone who had last seen Rae Sunday evening before she had gotten off of work. That only left them to interview Marcus and myself. Marcus claimed that he had left early and I allowed the police to see his punch card for verification. Then I told them that the two of us had left the diner together and that I had driven away before she had gotten into her car.

I escorted them to the parking lot where all the employees parked and even allowed them to search my Honda. I knew they needed a warrant or something along that nature for that, but I was far too concerned and shocked about the turn of events to argue that against them. Besides, I had nothing to hide.

The rest of the week followed a similar pattern. The police only came back twice to ask any additional questions they could come up with and even the local news reporters came by to get in their interview. I had to call up Michael and inform him that I refused to be on TV. He came and did the interview for me.

Everything that I was able to gather about the situation was that Rae had driven off in her own car before she had gone missing. She never showed up to the apartment she was sharing with her roommate, meaning she had disappeared somewhere between her commute from the diner to her place.

Only, Rae's vehicle was missing as well.

By the time classes resumed the following Monday, the situation had died down. Of course the police were still searching, but the news had found newer and better stories to report, so the publicity of the event dwindled significantly. And there was nothing I could do about it myself. All I could do was hope that Rae was okay.

However, being the movie lover that I was, I had seen enough abduction stories to know that, after 72 hours, it was nearly impossible to track someone who had been kidnapped.

Had Rae been kidnapped? Was she held prisoner somewhere against her will? Was she hurt? Was she even-

I used my return to school as a distraction to keep me from thinking so negatively about the status on Rae's whereabouts. Again, all I could do was hope that she was okay and that the police would find her soon.

* * *

Monday morning after break found Nate and I treading carefully across the icy parking lot of the math and sciences campus, making our way to calculus. There hadn't been much snow fall since winter had started, but, what little we had had solidified into a good sheet of ice and the city was cautioned to be mindful of it.

For someone with a klutz record like my own, it was easier said than done.

As we slowly approached Professor Souza's lecture hall, Nate was teasing and poking fun at me as I shuffled inch after inch across the slick asphalt. Annoyed, I attempted a swing at him which, really, wasn't my best idea as he was clearly out of my reach. Too late, however, I lost my balance and my left heel slipped out from underneath me. Nate stopped laughing for a mere second to lunge and grab for my arm. When his hand gripped around my wrist, he pulled, tugging me swiftly back up and into his form.

Nate's arms wrapped around me and the two of us took a second to steady ourselves before my ginger friend burst out into another round of boisterous laughter. I glared at him.

"Yeah. Keep laughing, jackass. Next time, I'm taking you down with me."

"I-I'm sorry," He chortled. "It's just that, you're almost as prone to landing on your face on the ice as you are with perfectly dry and straight ground."

"I could seriously hurt myself, you know? Then you'll feel like a real dick for laughing at me."

"Oh come on, Chloe." Nate mumbled, finally calming down as he rolled his eyes. "I'm just messing with you. Besides," He added, dark blue orbs locking with mine as he took a sudden serious demeanor. "I'll always be there to catch you when you fall."

I would have made a jab at the cheesiness of his statement, if not for the fact that his arms seemingly tightened just a fraction, his fingers lingering there against the small of my back and the sincere way he was holding my gaze. I swallowed anxiously, uncomfortable.

It hadn't always been like this between us. If I claimed that I hadn't noticed the way Nate had been acting differently around me over the last couple of years, I would have been lying. That didn't mean that I didn't cover it up with, what I deemed to be, logical explanations. Nate was my best friend and I knew that, no matter what, he was always going to be there to take care of me. Somehow, though, the thought that it all meant more to Nate than it did to me always crept up and nagged at the back of my mind before I shoved the ridiculous idea away.

Was I in denial? Probably, but, I liked to think that I wasn't. At least for the time being. Nate had never really acted out towards me in more ways than just friendship, so I often told myself that I was imagining things whether, deep down, I knew I was deluding myself or not.

"Um, w-we should get to class." I muttered quietly, tenderly pushing away from him afraid that- afraid of what? That I would hurt his feelings?

Nate's intense gaze broke as fast as it came on as he released a mock, deflated sigh, returning back to the friend that I knew and loved.

"Man, I wish it was still break. I really don't want to start classes again. All these general courses are going to bore me to death before I can even get to the fun stuff at Juilliard." He whined, releasing his hold on my waist. However, he didn't break full contact, as his hand slipped into mine.

I blushed, glancing down at his large hand enveloping my own, telling myself over and over that it was nothing. He was just doing it so that he could help me make it through the rest of the parking lot without falling on my ass, and that was it.

We walked into our calculus class with a few minutes to spare. As a habit, I glanced over towards Professor Souza's desk and found him standing over it, one hand shuffling through his lesson plan, the other holding his daily green apple up to his lips as he took a bite out of it. Upon our entrance, he glanced in our direction, his jade eyes meeting mine for just a brief second before they lowered and fogged with question. I took a minute to search for what he was looking at and found my hand still clasped against Nate's.

I quickly peeled my hand away and shrugged when Nate gave me a questioning look. I glanced back in Professor Souza's direction but found his attention glued to the stack of paperwork upon his desk again. I felt slightly deflated at the idea of what he thought by what he had just seen. However, just as I was about to mumble to Nate that we should find our seats, Professor Souza took a final bite of his apple, discarded it into the wastebin beside his desk, then motioned a beckoning gesture with his now free hand.

"Hey, save me a seat alright?" I mumbled to Nate, then sauntered my way towards Professor Souza's desk before Nate could reply or protest.

As I approached, I instantly noticed the dark rings beneath my mentor's eyes as he continued to skim through the paperwork that littered his otherwise organized desk. The last time I had seen him, he had been fleeing the diner after the news announced of Rae's disappearance. To say this was the first time that I wondered why he had been there in the first place- and have not resurfaced the entire week since then- would be complete and utter bull. I'm surprised that I was able to think of other such things. Like Rae actually missing for instance.

There was a part of me that had been suffocated since that day that wistfully wondered what had taken place the night Professor Souza had come to my rescue during Liam's New Year's party. What happened after I had gotten into his car and closed the door, throwing all caution I'd otherwise have, despite the circumstances, out the window?

But then more important matters had me reeling from such wonders, where I told myself that I was being foolish and should have worried more about Rae's wellbeing and Professor Souza's odd behavior that evening at the diner. If I asked him, would he tell me? I liked to think that all that time spent with him wasn't of him humoring my ideals of us being more than just a teacher and his student in order for me to actually study and pass his finals.

Only one way to find out, I suppose.

Professor Souza finally met my gaze again as I approached and instantly jumped into his business with my summons.

"What do you think about adding Monday afternoons to our study schedule?"

I blinked. I didn't know exactly what I expected when he had called me over. I honestly conjured up three liable options:

'_Plan on pleading your case towards your decisions New Year's Eve?'_

'_How are you dealing? You know, with your friend missing and all?'_

'_Looks like you and Nate are more than friends to me.'_

I'll admit, the last one was quite a stretch and didn't seem a part of Professor Souza's character if he cared about what he had just seen between Nate and I or not. Still, I would have liked to jump for the opportunity to explain to him that it wasn't what it looked like.

It wasn't.

However, I wasn't at all expecting him to bring up our study sessions, let alone add another day to our schedule. Not that I was complaining, but I felt a slight stab as if he was saying, _'You're not doing good enough, Chloe. You're going to need this extra day, if not the whole week.'_

Why did I have to be so bad at math?

As if he could read my mind through my deflated expression, he replied with a shake of his head.

"I'm asking, Chloe. Not demanding. The final is next Friday, giving the class roughly two weeks to study the last lesson I'm introducing this week and to review. I thought you might appreciate an extra day if you had any questions on previous lessons."

"R-right. No, that's fine. I'm okay with Mondays. I have to work most Fridays so…" I trailed off, blushing furiously as I realized that I was babbling frantically.

Professor Souza's lip quirked faintly, flashing that small crooked smile of his that I doubted more than few were ever graced to see. My heart leapt.

"That's why I suggested Monday, Chloe."

"Right." I muttered again, smiling back.

So, I started studying with Professor Souza on Mondays, in addition to the Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday study sessions. It wasn't that much of a change, really, considering it was only two extra days before the end of the term. But, it did give me a little extra time to spend with my calculus Professor with at least a reason to. It wasn't until the second Monday that I spent at the opposite end of Professor Souza's desk, bent studiously over my review packet, that something about all this final talk and end of the term preparation hit me in a devastating realization.

This was my last week in Professor Souza's class. Sure, we would all return the following Monday for our final scores, and of course Tuesday was a free day for anyone who needed a make-up. But, come Wednesday, NYU's student body would be switching to their second term choices.

How had this not occurred to me before? I mean, sure, I knew the final was fast approaching, but I had been so busy studying- both math and my math Professor- that it never really clicked that, _'final,'_ also meant the end of my time in Professor Souza's course. The end of my time with Professor Souza, period.

Would he still come by the diner on Saturdays to visit? What would he say if we ever saw each other around campus after all this? Would I even be around the math and science campus once this term was over? What if Professor Souza and I hadn't connected enough to merit some sort of relationship after this was all over. All this being our study sessions and idle chats at Michael's.

Was this really the end?

By the time Thursday came- the day before the final- I found myself so swamped in last minute cramming that I couldn't even afford to think of what would happen once I received my score on Monday. I was so stressed, though I knew that I was more than ready for the test, that anything I directed towards Professor Souza wasn't anything more than a question over previous lessons or a request for him to check my work.

I think he could tell how stressed I was. Feel it washing off of me in waves even. For he grabbed my hand, as I was once again falling into that habit of aimlessly twirling it in between my fingers, and caught my attention. I met his jade eyes and my mind blanked. All of it. Gone. Every equation and algorithm that I had been drilling into my brain, branding it there in hopes that it would stick and be there for me the following morning, vanished, all by his gaze. At any other moment, I probably would have marveled at how he was capable of doing that to me, just with his eyes.

Now, however, I panicked.

"Chloe, breathe. You're going to do fine." He rumbled lowly, tone calm yet void of reassurance.

With Professor Souza, he didn't sugar coat. He spoke the blunt truth. And, when he was trying to get a point across, he used that tone. I knew he was right. I _knew_. But I couldn't fight my ever growing anxiety.

Professor Souza's gaze held mine, his hold on my hand tightening. My heart shuddered and I could feel the fear of failing ebb. He opened his mouth to say more when the sound of his classroom door crashing open had us starting and jumping apart.

The two of us cast our gaze towards the entrance of Professor Souza's lecture hall, part of me fearing that it was Professor Banks paying another unexpected visit. Only, this was not Professor Banks.

Standing in the doorway was a tall, slender woman. Maybe almost Professor Souza's height with the two and a half inch pumps she donned in collaboration with her designer clothing. A green sweater that reached to her mid-thigh, doubling even as a dress as her legs were covered in dull black leggings. She had shoulder length, vibrant black hair, a disarray of curls framing her high cheek bones, fair skin and deep brown eyes.

She was gorgeous.

I glanced over when I heard Professor Souza sigh, an exasperated sound, and caught his expression in time to see him rolling his eyes.

He knew this woman?

"Hey." The woman murmured, tone bored as if she wished to be anywhere but here.

"Can I help you with something?" Professor Souza rumbled, annoyed. The woman snorted.

"Gosh, Der, it's so great to see you too." She said, making her way into the classroom and over towards Professor Souza's desk. "No, _'Oh, Tori, I've missed you so much. I-'_"

"What do you want Tori? Aren't you supposed to be crashing my apartment?"

"You mean crashing_ at_ your apartment." The woman- Tori- corrected, rolling her eyes.

"I know what I said."

Tori grimaced while I reeled in confusion. Beautiful woman waltzing into Professor Souza's classroom, addressing him as Der, implying that he should miss her, then the mention of her staying at his apartment? By their annoyed tones, as if they rather be doing anything other than associating with each other at the current moment, I'd assume that the two had had a recent fight.

But, if all of this pointed to anything, as far as the connection between the two, I'd draw up the conclusion that they were-

I swallowed the rising ache at the thought and nearly smacked my head against the desk for having been so naively stupid all this time.

What- what the hell had I been thinking?

I clutched my hands together to keep me from going back into my fit of nervous hysterics before Tori had entered the room as question after painfully, _'What-have-you-been-doing-all-this-time,_' question bombarded my brain like an army of kamikaze aircrafts.

My initial goal had been to discover whether I meant more to Professor Souza than any of his other students, finding the way that he treated and addressed me unlike that of which he did to anyone else. After Thanksgiving break, I had really thought that there was something there. What though? Did I honestly think that Professor Souza got the same strange, yet elated feeling of butterflies squirming throughout his stomach whenever I met his gaze? Did I truly believe that, whenever he smiled, he was showing a part of himself that he only felt comfortable with showing me?

Had I been reading into everything far too much since my first meeting alone with Professor Souza? I liked to think that I saw all the signs in the right light, that I caught all the hints that he didn't express himself the way that he did to anyone other than myself. But, in the end, I guess that this crushing feeling, as I caught Professor Souza throwing a teasing smirk- one that I was so used to thinking was no one else's but mine- Tori's way, was reality shattering the inane fantasy I have been living in for the last month and a half.

Professor Souza, being the kind of guy that he was- smart, straightforward, successful, handsome- of course he would have a-

"Whatever," Tori muttered distastefully, then reached her hand out towards Professor Souza, palm facing up.

"Just hand over your keys. I lost my spare."

Professor Souza scowled.

"So the key to my apartment is out there in the world for some random stranger to pick up, giving them access to my home?"

Tori fixed him a look, leaving me slightly curious- shamefully more than I should have been- as too how bad it must have been if they did, in fact, have a recent disagreement.

As if reluctantly, Professor Souza reached into the messenger bag that held his work and plucked a keychain from its depths. He dropped it into Tori's outstretched hand and she snatched them up, closing her fist around them before turning her gaze in my direction.

"You must be Chloe Saunders."

I blinked.

Tori frowned, giving me a once over as if I were slow since I didn't reply. Really, I was too surprised to.

"That is who you are, isn't it? Based on what Derek's told me, you do seem to fit the part."

I blinked again, slower, even more perplexed. Professor Souza talked about me?

Running interference, Professor Souza stood and cleared his throat. My brain was still under critical reconstruction, trying desperately to process what this all meant.

"Right. Tori, this is the student I've been tutoring, Chloe Saunders. Chloe, this is Tori Bae, my-"

Suddenly, my brain clicked. Maybe because Professor Souza's voice snapped me back into the present situation and I realized bashfully that I was gawking strangely at Tori. Determined to do some damage control, maybe even just take the introduction, then make a quick excuse to flee the classroom so that I could wallow in self-pity due to my disappointment and stupidity, I jumped up and reached out my hand in greeting towards Tori.

I was going for courtesy and just a little fake pleasure, but I wouldn't be surprised if I sounded more forced and spazzy than anything else. It didn't matter. Anything just to get out of here.

"R-right, I-I'm sorry. I was just s-surprised that you knew who I was. I wish I had been able to recognize you. P-Professor Souza never mentioned having a girlfriend."

As I spoke, Tori had eyed my hand wearily. When I finished, her dark eyes snapped to mine, weirdly surprised, but sharp and suddenly filled with disgust.

"Excuse me?"

I glanced over at Professor Souza, wondering if I had said the wrong thing. Maybe even gotten him into trouble for not really talking about her considering how peeved she looked. However, when I caught his eye, I found that he had almost the same look as Tori's with the addition of his furrowed, confused brows.

A sudden boisterous sound erupted from the doorway, the intruding noise once again startling the occupants of the classroom and pulling at our attention.

There, doubled over against the door frame, a slender man stood shaking in a fit of uncontrollable laughter. I couldn't see much of his face, but I could see that he was tall, if not the same as Tori's regular height minus the heals, with tan skin and a mess of spiky, dark blonde hair.

"And what are _you_ laughing at," Tori sneered.

The man tried to speak between gulps of air and laughter.

"I-I don't know-" A gasp for air. "-what's funnier-" Another chortle. "-the idea of you and Derek dating, Tori-" An explosion of giggles. "-or the idea of Derek having a _girlfriend_."

This time, Tori and Professor Souza rolled their eyes in unison.

What was going on here? First Tori walks in, demanding Professor Souza's key to his apartment while insinuating that she was his girlfriend. When I had pointed it out, they both looked at me as if I had grown a second head before this newcomer- who clearly knew the two other adults in the room- guffawed at the very thought. If Tori wasn't Professor Souza's girlfriend, then who was she?

And if the man found the idea of Professor Souza even having a girlfriend comical, did that mean that he didn't have one?

_No. Focus. _

Right, I was still entirely too jarred by these events to even try and think along those lines and how elated it almost made me feel.

"Um," I mumbled, looking for something a little more polite to say than,_ 'Hey, what the hell is going on here?' _Professor Souza was the first to speak.

"Chloe, Tori isn't my girlfriend. She's my sister."

Once again, as I couldn't seem to break the stupid habit, I blinked, dumbfounded. Then my cheeks reddened.

"Oh."

"Yeah," Derek mumbled, rolling his shoulders impatiently as he seemed more than finished with what was currently happening, maybe just as aggravated by it as I was confused by it.

"And chuckles over this is-"

As Professor Souza gestured towards the man who had calmed down enough to look our way, I was finally able to depict his facial features. I gasped, finding that I recognized his chiseled cheek bones and almond shaped eyes, matched with his messy blonde hair.

"Simon Bae," I breathed, just as Professor Souza said, "-my brother."

**Okay, so, I actually expected this chapter to be a little bit longer. Even as far as explaining how Chloe knows who Simon is. But it's nearly midnight, I've had a long day, and I promised to update today. Besides, the next chapter is rather short, so the addition of what I expected to end here should be fine. :) **

**I really hope you guys enjoyed this and continue to follow me. I never really thought about how incredible it is to be added to a reader's subscriptions, as we're usually more concerned about the reviews. You guys are great. Thank you. :)**

**Please leave a review. I could really use the motivation and the critic if it's merited.**

**Love you all. :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note- So, I decided to give you guys a Wednesday update! I loved the warm return I received and found it extremely hilarious how scandalous some of you guys perceived the idea of Chloe knowing Simon. It's not nearly as big a deal as everyone thinks, but his appearance does stur up some shit… I'll just let you read it. ;P**

**I'm trying to at least get to that point that everyone has been waiting for before things start changing for me on my end. I don't know exactly when, but pretty damn soon, I'll be moving to South Korea for the next year. Don't worry, I'll still update when I'm there, but it might take me a while to get settled. **

**I just wanted to give you all the heads up. :) Also, I've been skyping Jesse, the girl I met at the airport that knew me from here, and I would more than love to befriend a lot more of you guys who have been following me all this time. I usually just do messaging, so if you would like to add me, plug in **** Alasyn Eletha to the search box. :)**

**Enjoy!**

**Forbidden**

**Curveball**

"Y-you're Simon Bae," I repeated, surprised. Excited even, as I felt a smile tug at my lips. Simon's brows quirked questioningly, which wasn't surprising, considering someone he didn't know actually knew who he was.

"You know Simon?" Professor Souza asked, tone strange. I quickly glanced his way and found him passing an odd look between Simon and me, before his gaze met mine, a foreign emotion swimming among questions there.

"Yeah, I'm sorry but-" Simon started, straightening now that he had completely stopped laughing. He passed me a polite smile, one that you couldn't help smiling back to.

"I don't believe we've met."

"Right. Um, we haven't." I admitted shyly, blushing when I realized just how awkward this was. "You're the talent scout for Julliard. Anyone who's trying to get accepted there knows who you are."

Realization dawned in Simon's eyes and his smile grew. He tossed a wistful look towards Professor Souza before saying, "This is Chloe then? Bro, you didn't do her any justice. Cute? Smart? More like strikingly beautiful and genius for getting friendly with the brother of the talent scout for Julliard."

My reddened cheeks deepened a few shades. Professor Souza said I was cute and smart? I was suddenly reminded of Professor Souza's return from his Christmas back in Syracuse with his family. How he seemed so wary after an event that had taken place there, where his family had given him shit for something that he didn't ordinarily do. I wondered briefly if that something had been his interactions with me, seeing as how both his sister and his brother knew who I was. I was especially curious if what he had told them was that I was cute and smart.

Was he just giving them a general description of his tutor student, seeing as that was something simple enough to share with his family as to what he's been doing since his last visit? Or did he have a different meaning behind his words that his siblings caught onto?

I had to remind myself that less than five minutes ago I had been devastated by the idea of Professor Souza having a girlfriend, though I no right to be. And now I was glowing with the prospect that all my theories may have been more than true.

Again, I had no right.

Then something caught my attention. I was standing in Professor Souza's classroom with his brother and sister that he often mentioned. Both of which had the last name Bae. Simon was half Korean, his bio easily accessed on the internet considering his status in the world, and he looked it. Even Tori, though she could pass as Caucasian, could easily be pegged as Simon's sister.

Professor Souza, however, looked nothing like the two Bae's nor did he share their last name. When I looked up at Professor Souza in order to find something, anything of a reseblence, I found that he was glaring daggers at Simon, no similar features present.

"You guys are really brothers?"

Professor Souza snorted.

"Unfortunately. We're identical twins."

I frowned at his sarcasm and figured that I was going to have to wait for these answers, just like almost everything else about Professor Souza's personal life.

"Don't mind him." Simon cut in, walking his way into the room now. "He wasn't expecting Tori and I to visit and now he's bitter."

"I wasn't really surprised to see Tori, considering I agreed to let her stay at my place since her apartment is flooded."

"Hello? I'm standing right here." Tori snapped, waving a hand at her position by the chalkboard. "No need to talk about me like I'm not."

Professor Souza ignored her.

"What are you doing here, Simon?"

"What? I can't stop by and pay my favorite brother a visit?" Simon asked as he perched himself on the corner of Professor Souza's desk. His brows bent mockingly, as if he were emotionally wounded by his brother's questioning tone.

Professor Souza shook his head and slumped into his seat at his desk, as if giving up the idea of even understanding what his two siblings were bothering him for.

"You both know that I 'm off work roughly around six after these study sessions. Why couldn't you have waited to bother me until then?"

"And miss the chance of meeting Chloe?" Simon chirped.

More eye rolling and then Simon decided to ignore him and turn his attention back to me.

"It's a good thing that we already know each other, in a way, because I hate the formalities of introductions."

Simon paid no mind to the echoed snorts that sounded after he said this. Instead, he pressed on.

"So, Chloe, why are you interested in Julliard?"

I couldn't believe this was happening. The discovery that the man I had been potentially preparing to make contact with so that Nate and I could get our auditions coming up in March was actually my math Professor's brother was one thing. But, having him already here, intrigued by my interest in the school that employed him as if he were already interviewing me for my place, was completely off the charts on how weird this afternoon had been.

"Well, I've been interested in screenwriting and producing for, basically, my entire life. I'm looking towards Julliard to get my foot in the door."

"Smart." Simon beamed. "But, you're already a sophomore?"

"Is that a bad thing," I mumbled, suddenly anxious. I hadn't really thought about that before. Whether it wasn't really ideal to audition for junior courses if you've had two other years at a previous school. In fact, I thought that the compromise Dad and I had come to where I did my first two years here had been relatively smart.

"No, no." Simon said, waving his hands in front of him as if to deflect the negative insinuation once he saw the expression on my face.

"It's not that. I'm just wondering why you didn't audition your freshman year. Unless you did and…" He trailed off, obviously not wanting to open an old wound if I had been rejected.

"No, I haven't auditioned yet. I have a two year scholarship to the school of my choice that I plan on using if I get accepted into Julliard for the next year. As for now, I've been getting my basic courses out of the way. It allows my father to have some peace of mind since he doesn't really understand my career choice."

"Basic courses like boring, old calculus?"

Simon tossed the teasing lilt over in Professor Souza's direction and received a scowl in return.

"Calculus isn't boring. You just need someone to explain it to you better."

Simon gave me a questioning look and it took me a second to realize that he was waiting for my opinion.

"It's not that bad." I shrugged.

At that, Professor Souza lifted a slender brow quizzically.

"You hate math."

I was almost tempted to say something along the lines of, _'Not anymore,'_ but I would be lying somewhat. The only reason I could even tolerate math now was because it was Professor Souza who was tutoring me.

"So, do you have a good piece for your audition then, Chloe," Simon asked, bringing us back to our previous conversation. I nodded enthusiastically.

"I do. I've been working on it since I wrote it for a project back during my senior year of high school."

"Your own piece?" Simon asked, sounding almost astonished. "So you're going to be playing a part in a scene that you wrote yourself?"

I nodded.

"My friend Nate and I are both going to play the lead parts. He's auditioning too."

"I have to say, that's not very easy to accomplish. Those anal judges always seem to have a stick up their ass about those kinds of things." Simon muttered, almost to himself as he was tossing my idea around in his head.

I felt a slight twinge of fear at his words. Would it really not be taken too seriously if I auditioned with a scene I had written myself? All this time, I thought I was being original in a way. Not only showing off my acting skills- which I didn't care much for in the long run- but my talents as a writer and a visionary.

"However, I like your confidence, Chloe, and the judges eat that up. Even if you're doing something they don't care for." Simon exclaimed. "Tell you what, I'll give you my email and, if you want, you can send me your piece and I'll take a look at it. Maybe give you a few pointers as to what the judges are looking for."

"R-really?" I stammered, disbelieving as Simon plucked a pen and sticky note from Professor Souza's desk, who returned the action with an unappreciative scowl.

"Of course. Also, I'll put down my personal number. If you ever need anything, anything at all, feel free to drop me a call."

I bent my brows, still perplexed by Simon's open friendliness to a complete stranger he had just met. When he handed me the sticky note and caught my expression, he merely shrugged.

"Hey, any friend of my brother is a friend of mine." He smiled brilliantly and winked.

I blushed and looked at Professor Souza. Though it was quite silly, I scarcely wondered if he was as star struck as I was. However, I found him giving Simon a weird look, almost scrutinizing. His eyes flashed as if to question, _'What are you up to,'_ as Simon stood from his perch atop his brother's desk.

As Simon glanced around, he asked, "Not that I'm complaining, but where did the Witch run off to?"

"She bailed about the time she realized she was lacking attention and is more than likely on her way to my apartment, which worries me." Professor Souza rumbled. I inspected the room for myself and found that Tori was, in fact, missing.

"What's there to worry about," I asked, curious.

"Tori alone in my apartment?" Professor Souza questioned, as if it had the most obvious answer in the world. Simon must have gotten it, for he chuckled.

"The combination of, _'Tori alone,'_ and, _'In my apartment,' _is scary enough as it is. But, considering she had just accidently flooded her own place, I rather not take my chances. I'm afraid that I might have to cut our study session short, Chloe."

I was about to reply that it was perfectly fine. After all, I had to get myself to Nate's dorm as soon as possible in order to spill what had just transpired over the last fifteen minutes and what it meant for us and our possible futures at Julliard. However, Simon piped up before me.

"I can stay here and help her study."

He got a look.

"First of all, you are probably just as bad at math as Chloe is. Secondly, I'm sure that you have a very important phone call to make, considering you couldn't wait to bother me until after work."

_Phone call?_

"Aw, come on," Simon whined, acting more like a fourteen year old boy than a man in his early twenties.

"Dad can wait."

"No," Professor Souza said sternly. "He can't."

Simon sighed.

"Fine. Well, Chloe, it was nice to meet you, but I guess we're going to have to part ways thanks to the family buzz kill."

Again, Professor Souza rolled his eyes as he stuffed his messenger bag with the class' recently turned in review packets that still needed correcting.

"I look forward to reading your scene, though." Simon added, stretching out his hand for me to shake.

I did and said, "Of course. I'll be sure to send it to you right away. By the way, if you don't mind me asking, when is your next graphic novel going to be released?"

Simon's eyes widened in surprise.

"You follow my work?"

"How could I not? You're art style is incredible."

Simon faked a swoon and, with the hand he had used to shake mine, he placed it dramatically over the left side of his chest while glancing over his shoulder at his less than amused brother.

"Ah, a girl after my own heart." He moaned falsely. I couldn't help but laugh as Professor Souza shook his head and muttered, _'Come on, you idiot,'_ and shoved at Simon's shoulder towards the door of the classroom.

* * *

As soon as Professor Souza, Simon and I parted ways- without me getting a straight answer to the last question I had asked Simon- I rushed to my car and sped my way to Nate's dormitory. I was still in a complete and utter daze but that didn't really matter. All I could think to care about was that I _had_ to tell Nate.

I hastily parked, threw open my door and rushed into the dorm building where Nate lived. I ascended the story of stairs required so quickly that it was a complete blur. Before I knew it, I was banging enthusiastically on Nate's door.

"Nate! It's me. Open up, will you?" I demanded, probably disturbing anyone else on the floor.

I doubted there were many considering it was about five and the dining halls were open for student dinner. I almost feared that Nate himself had gone to eat before the handle on his door jiggled and it began to creak open. I didn't even wait. I barreled in, almost knocking my red-headed friend to the floor.

"Whoa, Chloe, where's the fire?" Nate queried, half annoyed albeit the humor lingering in his eyes. He rubbed at his right shoulder where the door probably hit him and I made a note to apologize for that later. For now, however-

"You'll never guess what just happened?"

"Considering that you were supposed to be at study hall for the past hour, I'm sure whatever it was will bore me." Nate teased, approaching me now before making a dissatisfied face. "Especially if it's about grumpy, old Professor Souza."

"He's not that old," I chastised. Though, really, I myself didn't know how old he was. I just simply stuck to Liz's assumption that it wasn't much older than any of us. Especially Nate, who was a college sophomore at twenty-two due to being held back during the third grade.

"And I'm sure you won't think it's boring after I inform you that I met grumpy Professor Souza's brother during my study session today."

"Why should I care about Professor Souza's bro-"

I cut him off by holding up the sticky note with said brother's name, email and phone number. My grin grew as Nate's eyes scanned over it then dawned realization.

"Simon Bae is Professor Souza's brother?" Nate asked, tone so incredulous that it was nearing the point of disbelief. He met my eyes skeptically.

"Simon Bae. As in the graphic novelist slash talent scout for Julliard?"

"The very one!" I chirped excitedly.

"But how are they…" Nate trailed off, unsure of how to ask what he was implying. That only made sense as Simon was Asian and Professor Souza was not. I almost had the urge to answer the way that Professor Souza had. Crack a sharp reply about the two of them being, _'Identicle twins.' _But, none of that really mattered at the moment.

Nothing at all really mattered except for this. I didn't need to worry about me and Nate's friendship being tested by signs I _thought_ I was reading from him. I didn't need to be anxious about my final because I was more than confident that, thanks to Professor Souza's help, I was ready. More importantly, I didn't need to stress about my feelings for Professor Souza and his in return. If anything had been made clear today, it was that Professor Souza thought more of me than I ever imagined and it was something that I could look into later.

For now, I had all my dreams and deepest most desires sitting in the palm of my hand. And, frankly, I just wanted to share that with the one person who understood that the most.

When Nate beamed in response to the, _'Does it even matter,'_ look that I tossed him, I could see that it all finally clicked in his brain.

"So, let me get this straight. Simon Bae personally gave you his email and stuff so that he can help us get accepted?"

"Exactly," I said. "I'm more than positive that his help will give us a definite acceptance. He wants to read my script and everything to give us pointers."

For a minute, Nate didn't say anything. Just met my elated gaze with his own until the excitement in his blue orbs burned so brilliantly, it was almost blinding. Then, all of a sudden, Nate's hand shot up, cupping itself behind my neck. Briefly, I thought he was going to pull me in for a hug, so I made to wrap my arms around his waist and-

And then I felt his lips touch mine and I froze. Suddenly, all those previous worries and anxieties hit me in one quick and shocking kill shot.

**Okay, well, go ahead and leave a review. I'm just going to go hide until Saturday. Make me happy?**


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: Quick, serious thing guys. My thoughts to anyone affected in anyway by what's been going on at the Boston Marathon today. You're all in my prayers.**

**Moving on. A little late considering I said Saturday, but not bad considering again that I've done much worse. Been pretty busy getting ready to move to Korea. Also, I've been asked several times if I am writing my own book… Well, I do have ideas and I've jotted notes down here and there. I've completely developed my main character and I know what I want to do, but I have a lot of research to do for the plot and the fact that I have to put more than the few chapters that I have on paper. **

**Also, I just want to say that you guys seriously cracked me up with your reviews for chapter 12. Some of you are just too nice to poor Nate while some of you are just plain heartless. Well, guess you're just going to have to read on and see what happens.**

**Enjoy!**

**Forbidden**

**Complication**

_Move. React. Do something!_

For a few tantalizingly long seconds, I repeated that mantra in my head over and over again as Nate's lips molded over my own. Finally, when something in my brain did click, I did react. Only, not in the way that I expected to.

I kissed Nate back.

Why? Maybe because Nate's lips were warm, soft and gentle. Everything a girl would want when a guy kissed her. A cute guy. A _nice_ guy. His hand was large and warm against the back of my neck, comforting, safe. His other hand found its way to my waist as he pulled me close, and I awkwardly staggered forward, my fingers tangling themselves into the front of his shirt.

Nate tenderly kissed me, and I kissed him back. It should have all been that simple. But it wasn't.

Nate was also rough in a way, desperate. His hand on my hip was forceful, hence my hesitance to close our proximity. His lips had the slightest urgency for me to react to each miniscule movement immediately as if the act of me not doing so would confirm every fear he's ever had about this moment. From the point that he kissed me, I should have done just that.

But I couldn't.

I don't even know why I returned Nate's kiss. Part of me, deep down inside, screamed that this was wrong. Not that Nate was a bad guy and I didn't want him doing what he was doing. In that case, though, I asked myself if it was really wrong, or just what I had been seeking from someone else recently. If anything, I think I kissed Nate because it was actually, in fact, the _right_ thing to do.

Nate pulled back just enough to look me in the eye. However, my mind was still too dazed, too confused to command anything more than to stare back, dumbfounded and brain-dead.

"I-I'm sorry," Nate mumbled quietly. Not dejectedly. His quiet whisper was somewhat awestruck, like he was still reeling himself and didn't know quite what to say.

"That was kind of sudden, huh?"

I nodded, unable to find my voice at the moment. We were still mashed against each other and, despite all the questions and confusion clogging up my brain, I would have loved nothing more than to leave, drive to my dorm, lock the door behind me and think all of this over.

To think that all I could care about a moment ago was sharing the fact that I had met Simon Bae, the man that more or less held our futures in the palm of his hands, with my best friend. Now, the thought just seemed like a distant memory.

"I'm sorry," Nate said again. This time his tone was firm, pulling my gaze back to his to see his sudden seriousness.

"I just- I like you, Chloe." Nate blurted, knocking me with another wave of shock, as if that wasn't obvious enough.

"I've kind of liked you since early on in high school. Although, I was so fixed on just being your friend that, back then, my feelings didn't matter. But, when we started college, I realized that I was running out of time and I found more often than not that I was steadily getting to the point where I'd might have missed my chance. Especially-" He paused, as if struggling to find the right words for what he was about to say next.

"Especially since the start of this term."

"W-what do you me-" I started, afraid that he was implying what I thought he was. Again, why would I fear something like that as much as I was afraid of rejecting his advance? I'd told Liz, though she had dragged it out of me. But, Nate was my best friend. He should have known my frustrations and dramas. I should have told him about Professor Souza. Just like I had told him about every other guy I've ever liked or dated.

I knew why. It was because I always knew that _this_ was in the way. Nate's feelings for me. Everything meaning more to him than just mere friendship.

"You know what I mean, Chloe." Nate stated, tone cold. He knew. And I couldn't do anything more than to keep staring at him, uncertainty rolling off of me in waves.

"Listen, Chloe. I get it." Nate said, tone almost void of emotion now. "This shouldn't be that much of a surprise, but it is, as I said a minute ago, sudden. I don't want to rush or push you into anything that you don't want."

"Nate, I-"

Nate leaned in quickly and kissed me again, cutting off whatever I had to say. What I was about to say, I didn't even know. But I'm glad that he stopped me, because the next thing that he did, was give me exactly what I wanted since the second his lips first touch mine.

"Just think about it," He whispered. "Let's get through our finals tomorrow, you work your shifts this weekend, and we'll talk about this on Monday, after we finish the term, alright?"

Finally, I was able to speak with certainty as I breathed back, "Alright."

* * *

Before a big test, it does you good to get a decent amount of sleep the night before and eat a healthy breakfast the morning of.  
Unfortunately, as I stepped into Professor Souza's classroom the following morning, I hadn't been able to get more than just a couple hours of sleep and the thought of eating made me feel sick. Half of me vibrated with pre-test nerves, the other was still reeling by the onslaught of thoughts since Nate had kissed me. The fact that said boy gave me his usual, charming grin as I took my seat next to his didn't help.

I'd finally dug deep enough to realize exactly why I'd allowed myself to lead Nate to believe that I wanted to be more than friends. Why I'd kissed him back. It was because, as I originally thought, it was the right thing to do. I was so afraid of rejecting Nate because, in retrospect, Nate was the perfect choice for me.

In the world of reality that we all live in, Nate was kind, considerate- when he wanted to be- caring, lovable, handsome, smart, courageous, charming, outgoing, determined and the list could go on and on about any other trait you could possibly imagine a genuinely great guy to have. He had his weaknesses, of course but, who didn't? The point was that, if I were looking for a relationship, Nate, being my best friend and already knowing all there absolutely is to know about me, was the ideal choice. He was something that I needed in order to keep me grounded. Especially with our lives drastically changing come the following fall.

In real life, I _needed_ Nate.

However, my judgment was clouded. As much as I loved Nate- in which case, I still wasn't even sure it was the same caliber of love that he had expressed to me early last night- I still had something else on my mind.

No. Not something. Someone.

I glanced up at Professor Souza as he held up the finals and began to explain the generic rules of test taking. I allowed the sound of his voice to wash through me, the texture and tone vibrating through every fiber of my being, down to my very core. I couldn't help but recollect that often times Pro- Derek, was cold, sometimes demeaning, rude, a little selfrighteous, demanding, harsh, unusually handsome, mysterious and altogether rough around the edges. You'd think that all those negatives would sway me more in Nate's favor, however, it was the contradictions to these traits that attracted me more towards Derek.

He was sincerely a patient man when he felt like whatever it was merited that part of his nature. He was overly devoted and caring, again only to those he felt deserved that of him. He was intelligent and didn't even dare hide it. Honest, gentle, fun- in his own way- thoughtful and sacrificial. Nate was easy to predict where Derek wasn't. Whether that was because I'd known Nate for a great chunk of my life or not, I found that more appealing and exciting.

In my dreams, Derek was what I _wanted_.

The key words, however, were dreams and fantasies.

No matter how close Derek and I had gotten over the past several weeks, he was still Professor Souza, my calculus teacher in college. Our worlds were two different places that it's almost astonishing how close I've come to seeing his. As much as I wanted to be with Derek and what I could only assume he felt towards me, the whole thing was still wrong.

Forbidden.

What did I really know about Derek Souza? Up until the previous day, I knew he had a father, a brother and a sister. Come to find out that, more likely than not, Derek was adopted. It was the only conclusion I could rationally draw though I couldn't be certain, but still. I knew that Derek had a dark past with Royce that I was more than sure that- no matter how curious I may be about it- I didn't want to get involved in. He lives on his own, doesn't watch movies, graduated from Syracuse University with the desire to be a physics Professor, went to Buffalo high school, moved around a lot as a kid because his dad is a lawyer…

But, how old was he? What happened to his parents if he really was adopted? How old had he been when he was? Why didn't he try harder to pursue his dream as a Physics teacher? What did he want out of life? How had he grown up? Who is Derek Souza?

"Chloe?"

I jumped a foot in the air and released a small yelp, taking instant note of a bit of preasure throb against my temple as I was brought from my thoughts. I had been thinking so hard that I zoned out, unaware of the fact that my irrational feelings and ideas were making me feel nauseous on top of my anxiety over Professor Souza's final.

I blinked and the classroom came back into focus, only to reveal Professor Souza standing in front of me. I met his green eyes, finding concern the evident emotion as he surveyed me, gaze silently asking, _'Are you alright?' _

However, it wasn't his voice that had pulled me from the psychological torture my brain was inflicting on me. I stole a glance in Nate's direction and saw that he too was looking at me with worry in his eyes. He was leaning over in his chair, hand on my upper arm, voice consoling as he asked if I were okay.

Finally, I just nodded and asked Professor Souza if I could have my final already. When the two of them pressed a little longer if I needed to see the nurse or anything, considering I was pale and looked as if I were about to break into a cold sweat, I explained it was just my nerves for taking the test and they left it at that.

Meeting Professor Souza's eyes once more, I saw all my fantasies incarnated within their jade depths. I briefly wondered why all this had to be so hard before my math teacher gave me a satisfied nod and handed me my test packet.

Before starting, I took a moment to clear my head. I couldn't afford to stress on the current dramas of my personal life. I just needed to focus on passing the final and then worry about what I was going to tell Nate on Monday once the weekend started. At least, if I ever found out what I wanted to say, that is.

This was my reality. Nate was right there, ready for me to reach out, grab him, and take him for what he was offering. A stable, happy and acceptable relationship. Maybe, once this test was done with and the term was finally over, leaving this calculus class and the teacher as a part of my past, it would be easier to accept that that was what was right.

With that in mind, I settled in to work on my calculus final, only to have small, scribbled and familiar script grab my attention on the bottom of my packet.

_Relax. You're ready. By the way, the answer to the first question isn't green._

_Good luck._

_-D_

**This seems like an adequate place to end this chapter, mostly because I hate the pace and can't quite find how I'd rewrite it. Oh well. I'll try and update Wednesday, if not Saturday. It all depends on how motivated I feel after using most of my free time packing. We'll see.**

**Also, I've gotten to know the lovely Devii through our little message chats on Skype. It's been a pleasure, hun. You guys are welcome to add me if you'd like. Just type in Alasyn Eletha. **

**Let me know what you guys think. :D Review!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: Yeah, yeah. I know I said by Saturday at least, but shit happened. Tis life. **

**(Side note: To that onslaught of 'Guest' reviews I got on Saturday, you guys are awesome. It was kind of weird getting them all at once, but made my day, so thanks. :D)**

**Anyways, I'm thinking about making a vlog for my writing, maybe, on my YouTube channel. Anyone down for that, or should I just forget it? It would probably be like a daily update on what I'm doing with my writing, maybe even read other people's fanfiction on there if they wanted me to and give my own reviews. Let me know what you guys think?**

**Enjoy!**

**Forbidden**

**Confusion**

I don't really know who I was anticipating to come through the door of the diner more; Nate, Professor Souza or an actual customer. It was yet another dead Saturday morning as most patrons were home from work and tended to make their own breakfast on weekend mornings. The unfortunate thing about that was that it gave me plenty of time to think when I wanted to do anything but.

I had finished all my finals the day before, including my calculus test after I had erased Professor Souza's message, scribbled a sloppy, _'Michael's tomorrow?_' in its place and turned it in without so much as a glance at either Nate or my math teacher. I wasn't too worried about my test scores. As he had suggested, Professor Souza had been right. I was ready. My math skills were no longer the main problem I had to undergo in college.

It was the fact that I was almost settled on accepting Nate's- offer? I suppose he was offering himself to me in a, _'I want to be your boyfriend,'_ kind of way. But then Professor Souza- no, Derek, had to leave that note on my test, knowing full well ahead of time that I was going to be antsy over the cursed final. He was being more than a teacher in that moment.

He was being a friend.

If anything, his note only proved that he cared about me, or at least that all my hard work meant something in the end and, in the actual end, that did mean something.

It meant a great deal to me, in fact. Derek had no clue what was going on between Nate and I in that moment. Other times I feared that he thought there was more between us- and now that there suddenly was, though I had no idea what- I was ultimately petrified of what he would think and if that would cause him to back off. Because, regardless of whether he believed me when I had told him that Nate and I had a strict friendship or not, that didn't stop him from expressing his own interest in me. Like offering to study with me on Monday's, even after he had seen Nate holding my hand, and then the note.

But, then there was that line that I had to keep bringing up whether I wanted to or not. Reality versus fantasy.

Even if Derek liked me, cared about me and wanted the same thing from me that I wanted from him- that Nate wanted from me- he was still my teacher. It was a taboo. As much as I wanted it, it was something that I ultimately couldn't have.

Nate, however, I could. He was everything a girl would want in a boyfriend and more. I always wondered whether or not I'd approve of any girl Nate picked to date solely on whether they deserved him, just because he was such a decent and great guy. If I could see myself now, as somewhat of an out-of-body experience, would I approve of my complicated feelings to be good enough to what Nate deserved?

That was easy.

No. Never in a million years.

It had barely been thirty-six hours since Nate had kissed me and I felt entirely too lost and confused now more than ever. My brain was tired, emotions exhausted from the tug-of-war that kept pulling me unwillingly to Nate's side. I wasn't sure I could handle this much stress on my own anymore and I needed, more than anything, a third party's view. One that would know what was best for me where I obviously couldn't filter out for myself.

I texted Liz.

When I didn't hear from her for the first half of my shift-nor catch the chance of Professor Souza accepting my offer to meet me today-I heaved a frustrated sigh and slammed down on the uncooperative coffee pot that Michael refused to replace no matter how many times I demanded that the diner needed a new one.

"Whoa, what did that poor coffee pot ever do to you?"

I jumped, fumbling with the filter that I was currently filling with ground coffee beans before it slipped from my hands and dumped to the floor. I spun and shot a glare at my guest, expecting it to be Nate as the good natured jab sounded an awful lot like something he would say.

Only, it wasn't Nate and, considering the deep yet light-heartedness of the voice, I shouldn't have mistaken it for him in the first place.

Sitting at the breakfast bar was none other than Professor Souza's brother and talent scout of Juilliard, Simon Bae. He held up his hands in mock surrender upon witnessing the nasty look I shot him, though there was clear amusement dancing about in his dark eyes. I immediately stuttered into a rambling of apologies.

"I-I'm so s-sorry, Si-" I cut myself off before I could completely utter his name. After all, I knew him as Simon Bae, the man holding my future, but also as Professor Souza's brother. We weren't really well acquainted enough for me to assume that I could just up and call him by his first name.

I swallowed my words, took a deep breath and tried again.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Bae. I thought that you were someone else."

"Hey now," He muttered, nose wrinkling in distaste. "Mr. Bae is my pops and even he doesn't like being called that. It's okay for you to call me Simon, Chloe."

"Right." I muttered with a blush.

"Also, you shouldn't waste too much of your time expecting him. He's not going to show up."

I blanched, his statement more than unexpected.

"W-what?"

Simon chuckled lightly, glanced over at the display case and reached in for a slice of Michael's famous apple pie that I had placed there earlier that morning.

"Can I snag one of these?" He asked. I nodded silently, still taken aback by his statement.

He plucked a plate from the display and set it in front of him, instantly digging in before meeting my questioning gaze once again and finally answering to my perplexity.

"You see, Chloe, when you live out the majority of your young twenty- three years of life with someone, you tend to notice when things are out of place. Derek doesn't do too well hiding things because he doesn't like to. Maybe he'll try extra hard if he feels like it's the right thing to do, but it's really easy to tell when he's squirming about something."

"Okay," I said slowly, still confused. Simon took another bite of his pie before he continued.

"I called him up this morning and asked him what he was doing for breakfast to see if he was free. Usually he's not because he's always grading things, being a teacher and all, or running for hours on end."

Professor Souza ran? I couldn't help but think myself silly for even questioning the idea. Of course he did. Even back when I barely knew him it was more than apparent that he frequented the realm of exercise, unlike myself.

"Anyways, he told me that he was going to head over to Michael's diner. It's basically been our favorite place since we were little, as our dad would take us each time he had to make a trip to the city for his job."

I laughed a little at this, almost wishing I had known that bit of information a little bit sooner. When Simon passed me a questioning look I replied.

"Sorry, that sounds exactly what my mom used to do whenever she came to New York for business."

Simon smiled, took the last bite of his pie and said, "I can see why you'd want to work here, then. As a college student, anyway. I really had no idea, but, I was definitely suspicious when Derek suddenly backed out of his plans after I told him I'd meet him here."

"He did?"

Simon nodded.

"Yeah. I told the guy that I hadn't been here in so long and, considering that there was something important that I wanted to talk to him about, I said I'd just meet him here. Like I said before, it's easy to tell when Derek is struggling. So when he starts making up bullshit about grading another pile of tests, I knew something was up. I had to see for myself. And guess what I found."

"Me?" I questioned, heat touching my cheeks.

"Exactly." Simon said with a wicked and all-knowing grin.

I felt my heart flutter unpleasantly at his look. Partially because I was a little panicked by how he was hinting to knowing full well what was going on between Professor Souza and I, but also partially because he was insinuating that, on Professor Souza's side of it, there _was_ something going on between us.

"Does he know that you're here?" I asked.

Simon's wicked grin became one of mirth and mischief.

"I wouldn't put it past him to suspect me of showing up here. Won't cause him enough concern to show up himself though. Which is too bad, really. He'd have been able to make sure that I was on my best behavior."

I couldn't help but laugh at that. I was coming to realize quite quickly that Simon was the polar opposite of Professor Souza. Sure, the math Professor had his teasing nature, once you finally dug it out of him. But Simon was easy. Easy to get along with, easy to talk to, easy to be around. It was nice. Part of me wondered if some of these traits rubbed off on Professor Souza as the two grew up together for it clearly wasn't as easy for him to open up as Simon did.

Suddenly, the bells of the diner's entrance sounded and Simon and I glanced towards the door to see a flash of light blonde.

"Hey Chloe! Got your emergency text. I came right away. I-"

Liz had scuttled up to the breakfast bar, rambling the entire way until she noticed Simon sitting there. She looked between him and me for a moment.

"Am I interrupting something?" She asked.

"Not really," Simon said with a smile. "You're a friend of Chloe's?"

"I am." Liz chirped, instantly making herself comfortable and molding her way into me and Simon's little meeting, like she did in just about everything. She was just that kind of person. In fact, she was just as easy as Simon was to get along with. As Liz took a seat next to Professor Souza's brother, I couldn't help but notice how similar the two were in personalities.

"Liz, this is Simon Bae. Simon, this is one of my friends from school, Elizabeth Delaney."

"It's very nice to meet you, Liz." Simon said, tone charming as he held out his hand for Liz to shake.

"Ditto."

"So, are you suffering through my brother's class as well?"

Liz gave him a questioning look.

"Simon is Professor Souza's brother," I said, filling in the blank for her.

Liz's light blue eyes snapped up to mine, incredulousness taking her features. After she had a few seconds to think about it, her lips twitched into a smile almost as mischievous as Simon's had been a few minutes ago.

"Wow, Chloe. Didn't think you had it in you to cozy up to the interest's family."

I gave her a look but Simon laughed.

"Anyways," Liz continued. "What was the big emergency about, Chloe?" She waved her phone around as she spoke, flashing that she had, in fact, gotten my rather urgent sounding text message.

I was about to spill everything that had taken place the last couple of days when Simon stood and said, "I should probably be leaving. Seems like you girls have some things to discu-"

"Actually," I interrupted, quickly reaching out across the breakfast bar and grabbing Simon's wrist to keep him from leaving. "If you don't mind, Simon, I'd like as much third party insight on something as I can get. Besides, I'm sure that you're already aware that-"

"That you and my brother both suffer from hyperactive morals and slug-like noticeability skills as to what one feels for the other?"

And there it was. My eyes shot open so wide I'm sure they bugged and my natural skin tone was more than likely no longer distinguishable. Simon was no longer hinting that Professor Souza cared about me.

He just flat out said it.

When he caught the expression on my face he laughed and sat back down. I glanced over towards Liz who merely shrugged like she knew the entire time.

"Come on, Chloe. You're acting like a little middle school girl who's just found out that her crush actually likes her back."

"Maybe because I did just find out," I squeaked, still dumbfounded by the concept. As Liz shook her head in disagreement, I turned away from the breakfast bar, grabbed three clean glasses and filled them with water. I handed one to each of my guests before gulping down my own. It didn't help very much to calm my racing heart and flustered brain.

"I don't think you did. I think that, deep down, you had it figured out a long time ago. Only, for some reason, you refuse to act on it."

I gave Liz a, _'You can't be serious,'_ look that she met defiantly.

"Liz have you forgotten that he's my teacher? It's against policy for teachers and students to have any kind of-"

"Oh please. Its 2013, Chloe, not 1992. On top of that, you're twenty years old. A consenting adult. Not some frail, naïve high school freshman being seduced by her math teacher."

"Liz!" I blanched. I wouldn't have minded her bluntness so much if we weren't accompanied by Simon, but he merely nodded his head in agreement to what she was saying.

"I'm just being honest." She defended. "I still don't know what you are waiting for. You have his number, don't you? Call him or something."

"He gave you his number?" Simon asked, disbelieving.

"What are you, a gossiping school girl?" Liz giggled. Simon smirked, his expression almost purposefully charming.

"Definitely. Especially when it comes to my antisocial brother. He swears that I never left high school."

"I can't imagine why," I muttered. Simon just gave me a cheeky grin, once again looking fifteen instead of his confessed age of twenty-three.

"You guys don't understand. It's not that easy. Professor Souza is my instructor. My mentor. Even if this is just like we're in high school and he likes me back, there's nothing I can do about it. Besides," I mumbled lowly. "Knowing how he feels about me only makes the situation ten times worse when I have Nate to consider."

"Nate?" Simon questioned, nose wrinkling.

"No way," Liz breathed. "Y-you like Nate too?"

"I-I don't know." I whispered.

I told them both about what had happened Thursday evening after I had met Simon. I had to give said man a little more background information about Nate, informing him that he has been my best friend since forever and that he was the one playing the male part in the scene I had emailed him early Friday morning. Finally, I explained to them my dilemma, how I was stuck between what was right and what I wanted.

"I'm so confused," I admitted with a sigh. "I've always made sure decisions and never used to question anything. Even back when I used to be afraid to do what I wanted. What I _knew_ was right. But now…"

I trailed off, brows knitting together as I noticed Simon shaking his head.

"What?"

"It's kind of peculiar how you and my brother are almost exactly alike with these kinds of things." He said, tone more serious than I would have ever expected of him.

"What do you mean?"

"Derek makes a decision on the spot and asks questions later. Even if he is in the wrong, he is one hundred and ten percent confident in his choice. But, when things come up that he doesn't understand, he clams up. He needs solid facts and logic laid out in front of him and, when he doesn't, he's a lost puppy. He needs things pointed out to him, Chloe. He has to be handed the truth on a silver platter or have it written in a text book for him to comprehend it and be able to make a decision. With this web you've spun yourself between my brother and your friend, it's clear that you need the same thing."

"I don't-" I started, but Simon shook his head again and said, "You don't like Nate, Chloe."

"But-" _Again_, I was interrupted. This time by Liz.

"Think of it this way, Chloe. I know that you're not very religious or anything, but Nana always used to tell me that confusion isn't brought by God. You're making up excuses as complications arise to deter yourself from what you believe is morally wrong or even impossible. You're _allowing_ yourself to be confused about all this when you _know_ the real answer."

I looked between both Liz and Simon, knowing that this was what I had asked for. I wanted an outsider's opinion and I had gotten two. They were both so adamant on something that was apparently so clear, yet I still couldn't see it. Simon said I didn't like Nate. Cut and dry; basically to the point because he believed that I had to have it spelled out for me. Did I believe him though? And what about what Liz had said? If confusion wasn't something a higher power wanted me to feel, then why was I felling it? Why was it so hard for me to admit that I didn't like Nate the way that he liked me?

Why was all this so hard to comprehend at all? Had it always been like that? Had I always been this lost when it came down to these two?

"Answer me this, okay?" Liz queried. "When _exactly_ did you start having all these conflicting emotions?"

It didn't take me long to come up with an answer and, when I did, I immediately found the solution to the situation. It was obvious, really, and I felt just plain stupid for allowing my brain to wrap and tangle itself around it in the first place.

The point wasn't _why_ I was so afraid to admit to how I really felt, but that I was _afraid_ in the first place.

"The moment Nate kissed me."

**So, I hope I didn't confuse anyone too much. A girl's brain is a really complicated place, I suppose. **

**Anyways, a quick note: I love interacting with you guys as much as possible. Know that you guys can add me on Skype if you'd like. I'm quite available for any questions- or even a discussion- seeing as how I'm just sitting on my ass waiting for orders to Korea. Just type in Alasyn Eletha. I only message chat.**

**With that being said, I don't want to say a specific day that I'll update seeing as how I haven't really stuck to my word recently. But, I've been dying to write chapter 15 since beginning this story, so, it may come rather quickly. Until then, leave your reviews and feel free to subscribe! :D**


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: IMPORTANT! PLEASE READ!**

**Okay, with the vlog idea; I believe I've come up with more of an audio log where I'll do segments of reading my stories from this site- and the stories of others if anyone wanted me to- almost in a audiobook fashion. A prototype piece has already been submitted to my YouTube page, which happens to be the prologue of this story. Please check it out and let me know what you guys think of it and if you'd like for me to continue. :) Links will be on my profile. **

**Anyways, I couldn't hold this chapter from you guys as I was going to! Feel spoiled and loved my darlings, because you are. :)**

**Enjoy!**

**Forbidden**

**Action**

I woke Monday morning having had the best sleep since Christmas break ended and I began stressing over my finals. Then things had to get complicated more recently and it almost seemed like I hadn't slept at all.

However, since my revelation late Saturday morning- thanks to Liz and Simon's help of course- I found myself less and less conflicted and more sure that, if I were going to act on anything, it would be on what I felt most confident in as far as how I felt. The two of them had made a very valuable point that day that I had failed to overlook.

If I was unsure about something, then it more than likely meant that it wasn't in my best interest.

They were right and I knew that now. Regardless of whether that settled my mind on the matter and helped me sleep better, it didn't make my situation any easier. I still had to deal with the impossibility of what I wanted, and the seeming impossibility of what I had to do in reaction of my discovery.

I had to talk to Nate and I had to talk to Professor Souza.

Nate had texted me earlier that morning and informed me that he wouldn't be needing a ride to calculus, which, though I was a little puzzled by his announcement, it still eased my anxiety over having to confront him about my decision over the weekend. He had told me to think about it, what had happened, and I did. I knew my answer, and I knew exactly what I wanted to tell him. That didn't mean that I _wanted _to, though.

Nate was my best friend and I never, ever wanted anything to change that. However, if I expressed to Nate the exact opposite of what he wanted, would things be different? Would things become weird between us? Would we drift apart? I didn't want that. More than anything, I didn't want that. But, in truth, it would have been worse for me to lie to myself, lie to him, and choose to be with him when it was clear that I did not like him more than as my close friend.

I rather him know the truth and hate me, than to lead him on. So, regardless of whether I wanted to break this to him or not, I had to find the right time to do it.

As I drove to the math and sciences campus, I started thinking more about what I was going to do with Professor Souza. I was sure of how much I cared about him and, according to Simon- and even Liz's extremely best friend-like way of telling me that I had to be the _'most clueless person'_ she has ever met- the feelings were mutual. However, no amount of either of them pestering me to make a move could hinder the fact that Professor Souza was my teacher.

He was my elder, superior and authority figure.

He was just off limits and, as much as I hated it that way, it was the way things were. What was I supposed to do? Confess my affections for the man, have him grudgingly admit his own, agree that the concept of us being more than a teacher and his student was unreasonable and improbable, then leave his class seeing as how the term would be over in less than a day and never look back?

I huffed at my over-dramatization and pulled into one of last few open parking spaces within the student parking lot. I was sure that once I told Professor Souza how I felt- because, regardless of what might happen, I was going to suck it up and spell things out for my math Professor just like I was going to do with my best friend- our relationship wouldn't shrivel into nothing and a distant memory.

I couldn't tell if I was in denial or in a false hope that, as the term ended, the situation would change.

* * *

It was funny how something I had been stressing about since my grades had started declining in calculus had become so insignificant the moment I turned it over to Professor Souza the previous Friday. Months ago, when I had first started this class, I never would have even began to fathom the fears I would face on the last day of term other than the impending final score of my worst subject. Crushing on the Professor of said subject? About to crush the feelings of my best friend?

Never would have crossed my mind.

Even as I took a seat at my regular desk and received a friendly grin from Nate, all I could think about was the painful zing that flashed through my chest at the idea of crushing that warm smile come the time. I knew in that moment that it had to be sooner than later. So, when he reminded me that he was going to come over to my dorm later this evening to pick through courses and finalize our classes for the beginning of the new term on Wednesday, I knew that that would be the point that I would have to let him down.

"That's fine," I agreed, voice as even as I could make it. "I think we have some other things we should talk about aside from classes, though."

Nate's eyes flashed, immediately glowing in a bright blue of anticipation. My heart seized.

"Sounds good to me."

For a second, I almost felt like I was going to throw up. Then a rough voice sounded, bringing the class to order and jumpstarting my heart back to life.

It almost seemed strange that, as used to the sound of his voice as I was, how much I possibly missed hearing it over the weekend, throwing my body and my reactions back into those early days of when I had admired Professor Souza from afar. How could I have possibly let my brain nearly convince myself that I needed Nate merely because he seemed like the right choice for me when, really, there was no way I could ever choose him over someone I felt so strongly for it almost seemed surreal? The idea just seemed entirely asinine now.

"Good morning, class." Professor Souza said, volume a bit more pronounced as he addressed his lecture hall. He shuffled through his messenger bag as he continued.

"I'm sure you all had a relaxing weekend now that the finals are over. The Professors on the other hand were hard at work slaving over tests, crappy handwriting and the faint smell of fear absorbed by flimsy pieces of paper."

A light laughter filled the classroom and Professor Souza himself smirked as he pulled from the depths of his bag a manila folder that no doubt held our class' corrected finals. Once they were in his hand, Professor Souza grounded his messenger bag and faced the class, a serious expression taking over his features.

"On a more serious note, I'd like to say that the majority of you performed really well on this test. Some, however," Professor Souza started, eyes running over the mass of his students before, suddenly, they settled on mine.

"Some didn't perform very well at all."

Judging by how fast my heart jammed up into my throat and my stomach plummeted, I wouldn't be surprised if I needed medical attention once Professor Souza released my gaze.

Only, he didn't.

His eyes were locked on mine and held no mercy. The last time I had seen Professor Souza emanate a look remotely similar to the displeasured one he was giving me was when Professor Banks had stopped by for an unexpected visit before Christmas break. I felt myself shrink under his intense gaze as my mind reeled.

_Did I fail the test? N-no. No way. I had been ready for it. There's no way._

I had been so sure, even as stressed and disordered as I had been that morning, that I had done just fine, if not better. However, the look Professor Souza was berating me with said otherwise. Had I really underestimated how much Nate's advance had jostled me? Or had it been more along the lines of me overestimating how much I had improved on my math skills?

Though it couldn't have been more than a few seconds, after what felt like an eternity, Professor Souza finally looked away. I only barely noted as he continued to speak that there were a select few who would have to retake the test the following day and that once we received our finals, we were free to leave as he had nothing else planned for the final day of the term. I was far too consumed by the vast and depressing black hole I was quickly plunging into to absorb any of his words though.

I watched as Professor Souza made his way through the classroom, much like I had done the day he had passed out the midterm. Though, unlike back then, I wasn't fawning over his height, his large hands, his lean muscle, perfectly tousled hair, and his incredibly green eyes. My eyes were glued to the stack of papers in his hands, following each movement as he set tests face down on each student's desk, hearing the release of relieved exhales in his wake. The closer he got to my seat, the more often my heart skipped a beat.

Soon enough, he was handing Nate his final. I scarcely noticed Nate's expression break out into a wide, satisfied grin once he found his score before I glanced up at Professor Souza, once again greeted with that disappointed look. I swallowed audibly.

With a deflated sigh, Professor Souza set my test on my desk and moved on to the next student. I slowly counted to ten before I decided that I might as well get it over with. Rip it off like a band aid so to speak.

I flipped my test over.

_Come see me after class._

_-Professor Souza_

I stared at the only seven words that occupied the page, written in Professor Souza's scribbled handwriting. It was so bad that Professor Souza didn't even return my test to me, nor did he sign the note with his signature initial.

I was so screwed.

When Professor Souza finished returning the rest of the tests, he informed us that he was available to answer any questions if anyone had any, otherwise we were free to go. The room erupted with a clatter of excited whoops and hollers mixed with a compilation of, _'What did you get?' 'Look at my score!' 'I totally aced it, what about you?'_

Steadily, students started to filter out of the classroom where I remained rooted to my seat, eyes locked blankly on the piece of paper on my desk that stared back at me relentlessly. I heard Nate's distant voice, questioning me, asking me if I were okay, why I wasn't moving. When he saw the note on my desk, he cursed and asked me if I wanted him to say.

I shook my head, promised him I'd still meet him later and, finally, he left. By then, it was just me and Professor Souza left in the classroom.

For a few moments, we just stared at each other. I remained slouched in my chair, hands wringing together as I sat under the clemency of his hard, jade gaze while he leaned against the back of his desk, arms crossed over his chest. I wanted so desperately for him to say something. Anything. At this point, him yelling at me would be more welcome than the disapproving silence he showered me in.

"When you turned in your final on Friday, how did you honestly think that you did?" He finally asked, voice low, tone tight. I had to take a deep breath before I answered, untrusting of my stutter surfacing under my anxiety.

"I-I thought I did great. My head wasn't really all here that morning but, when I finished, I thought th-that maybe I'd get the highest score I've gotten since starting the class."

And that was the honest answer. Professor Souza studied me for another few minutes and I noticed for the first time that I was physically shaking. I found that it was a mixture of actually finding out just how awful I had done on the test, as it not only affected my final grade but also my hold on my scholarship, and the point of seeing just how disheartened Professor Souza was in me.

"I don't get it, Chloe." He rumbled quite harshly. He reaches behind him a plucks a small packet from his desk, then straightened and slowly made his way over to me.

"You spent nearly two months working through hours and hours of extra study. I provide you with study guides, additional packets and personal assistance which require my own time and attention. You gradually build up your grade, getting higher scores with each test and yet-"

Professor Souza paused, stopping a couple feet away from my desk, eyes flashing as he loomed over me despite the distinct distance between us. He held out my test. It was too far for me to reach from where I sat and I knew he had done that on purpose. He wanted me to face him head on. He wanted me to stand there in front of him as he lectured me on being such a failure.

"And yet," He said again, quietly. "This is what you give me."

With a shaky breath, I stood from my seat and stepped in front of my desk. Refusing to break eye contact, I gingerly grabbed for my test and Professor Souza let it go, dropping his arm to his side. When he impatiently urged me to look at my score with a jerk of his chin, I finally did.

When my eyes landed on the red number posted on the top of my final, however, I had to snap my eyes up to the name box to make sure that there was no mistake of it being my test.

It was.

"If this is the score you were going to give me this whole time, Chloe, then I don't see the point as to what we've been doing here since your study sessions started. If this is what you've come up with after everything you've been through this entire term, then I'm afraid that you've just been wasting your time and mine."

I blinked, unable to believe what I was seeing. It didn't change. I blinked again and, when I found the same number there, taunting me, I released a choked laugh.

"A 98?" I breathed, looking up to meet Professor Souza's eyes again, finding them alight with mirth, amusement and even a bit snarky. He was smiling now. Broader and a little more lively than the small, crooked grins of his that I loved so much. His entire face lit up and I couldn't tell what seemed the most unbelievable. The smile on his face or the red 98 on my test.

"Why the hell did you undergo all that extra time in study hall if you were more than capable of this score the entire time, Chloe?"

I looked down at the test in my hands once more, the shock ebbing as my own smile spread across my face. I'd only missed one question and that provided me with the best score since starting the class. Whether Professor Souza thought I was capable of getting this score on my own or not, his tutelage had helped me progress and get this far.

Without really thinking about it, I released a strange mixture of a sound somewhere between a squeal and a laugh and flung my arms around Professor Souza's shoulders. My chest hit his and he uttered a surprised, _'Oomph,' _as hisarms instantly constricting around my torso to catch me as I had to make quite the leap to get my own around him. It did my nerve good once I came to the realization of what I had just done that he only gave a soft chortle in response. His arms slacked a little, but his fingers never left my waist.

I didn't need any more proof than that that Simon was right about his brother.

I'd accepted Professor Souza's offer to help improve my math, definitely. But that wasn't the only reason. I had also endured brain crippling study sessions in order to get to know _Derek_ as well. And I had. Rather well, in fact. He'd allowed me to get him to open up and didn't stop me when I had done the same. He'd come to visit me at the diner, taken care of me when I was being hounded by Liam and suffering from a hangover, protected me against his creep nemesis, Professor Banks and even went as far as to go the extra mile to show me as I made improvement on my education.

Would he have done all of that, that giant act like he was disappointed in me for not working to my full potential in the first place, for someone else?

I doubted it.

All this time, though there were the few occasions where I could distinguish him as acting more himself than as my teacher, I'd thought of him as just that. Professor Souza, my teacher. But that's not who he was nor what he has been for a very long time.

He's been Derek. This whole time. And, this whole time, whether he's been trying regardless of whether it was wrong or not, Derek had been taking action.

Now, it was my turn.

I pulled back from Derek just enough to meet his puzzled jade eyes one last time. He was still beaming, but his brows were knit, still surprised and confused that I had nearly tackled him to the ground in my forceful hug. He must have noticed something in my expression though, for his smile fell slightly and his lips pursed as if he were going to ask me something. Only, I didn't let him.

Instead, I leaned in and kissed him, occupying his lips with my own.

**You think you guys have been going crazy waiting for this moment? Can you imagine actually being the author just dying to write this chapter? This scene is what inspired my idea just to write this story, and now, the fun stuff can really begin. Wait, you thought this was the end? Silly, what about all of those plots I've been opening up in the last few chapters, huh? **

**Anyways, please do me this teeny tiny favor and check out the recording of the Prologue of this story on my YouTube channel. The link is on my profile. Let me know what you guys think of it.**

**Also, review please!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: I'm sorry that this is late guys. A LOT has been happening lately and, on top of that, my computer went all screwy and none of my saved audio logs for my YouTube channel will open. Then, on top of THAT, I finally got my orders! So, I'm heading home tomorrow and will be in South Korea by the end of the month. **

**I'll try to update and fill you guys in on plans as soon as I possibly can. Please bear with me. I love you all and I'm sorry if it takes me a while to get things rolling again. **

**For now, enjoy!**

**Forbidden**

**Compromise**

Indescribable. For one perfect second, that was what it was. Something I couldn't exactly put into words, even if I wanted to. Because, the millisecond my lips brushed against Derek's, his hands on my hips tightened their grip, reacting immediately and pulling me close, which was possibly just as surprising to me as my own irrational act to kiss him in the first place.

I'm sure that, in that single second, if my brain had been functioning properly, I would have noticed that a spark zinged its way throughout every nerve ending in my body the moment Derek reacted. I probably would have also paid more attention to how my toes curled, my knees shook, my heart stopped, my skin erupted with overwhelming heat and, hell, even how my brain turned to complete mush.

I hadn't felt anything like that when Nate had kissed me, and it was absolutely thrilling. If I _had_ to compare them, Derek's lips were just as warm, sweet and tender. Only, I couldn't compare them, because Derek's were so much more and so much different than Nate's were. Though their touch sent fire coursing through my veins, they were also cold. They were gentle, but with hesitance. Strong but, surprisingly vulnerable.

Above all, they were real. Genuine and raw emotions and reactions filtered through me instead of being induced by surprise and confusion. Derek's lips weren't forceful, though his unyielding personality portrayed that they could be. They were enticing, full, soft and- gone.

I blinked, dazed. I had been so wrapped up in that perfect second that I hadn't noticed that, once it ended, Derek's grip had moved from my waist to my shoulders, gently pushing me away. I met his eyes, confused, mind still not too quick to comprehending just yet. However, Derek's head was bowed, his night black hair falling into his eyes, covering them from view.

"Chloe, we- we can't." He whispered, rough voice so quiet that I almost missed his words.

His grip on my shoulders was tight, fingers curling just barely into my skin, threatening to bruise if he were to squeeze any tighter. It almost felt like he was afraid to let go, but also to hold on at the same time. If it weren't for that, I probably would have allowed the miniscule stab of rejection to seep in even further at his words.

Without a word, I drew my right hand from its resting spot near his collarbone- having been pushed far enough away that it had been impossible to keep them wrapped around his neck- and reached to softly push some of his hair from shadowing his eyes. Surprise evident, Derek glanced at me from beneath his lush lashes, jade orbs an uncertain storm. I knew then that I didn't need to feel rejected, because he wasn't pushing me away.

He was holding himself back.

"But you want to." I murmured.

When he cast his gaze aside and his hold on my shoulders slacked, I quickly slipped my hand from his forehead to cup the side of his face, turning his attention back to me.

"I know you do, Derek."

Derek's eyes abruptly locked back onto mine, wide with momentary surprise, as I've never voluntarily called him by his first name before, then his brows bent in an emotion akin to struggle. I was right. We'd both been more than aware of how we've felt individually and never dared to venture on the aspects of how the other did because of the forbidden factor of the entire thing. We really couldn't do this.

But we wanted to.

After Derek went through what looked like my own internal battle over the last weekend in an agonizingly long moment, he finally released a frustrated breath, slipped his hand around the back of my neck and pulled my lips back to his.

Just as slow, tender and susceptible, Derek kissed me, but entirely more sure than that of the first kiss that I had initiated. His thumb stroked over my jawline and his opposite hand rested on the small of my back, pulling me closer. I pushed up onto my tiptoes, fingers fisting into his dress shirt, putting in my own efforts to draw him closer to me.

My entire body was set ablaze, as instant as a match striking a strip, catching fire. My lips burned and a flushed feeling melted its way through my flesh from the bridge of my nose the tips of my toes. A pleasurable shudder racked up my spine in suit of Derek's fingers trailing up its length. My own hands itched to explore new boundaries and uncharted territories, however, I was still reeling from the actual act of kissing Derek Souza. In retrospect, that was something that could be saved for another time.

And, if it were the last thing I do, I'd fight for that time.

Too soon, Derek pulled away. However, it wasn't as forced as the first. Reluctant, yes, but not nearly as obligatory. As I glanced up at him, I met my favorite quirk of his lips and an emotion I thought I'd never see when it came to Derek.

Bashful.

It wasn't like he was giggling like a giddy little school girl or even blushing like I did the first few times he had ever spoken to me. But the way he refused to meet my eyes, as if still unnecessarily nervous as to how his own actions were received- like me kissing him back contentedly wasn't enough of an incentive- made him look a lot younger than I really thought he was.

I would have more than loved to stay in this mild fantasy that we were just two teenagers suffering from all high school romance dramas of first admitting our admirations towards each other and have everything just be magical with reality blinded by wave after nauseating wave of the very idea of having someone simply attracted to you, let alone your crush. However, Derek was a very realistic man and he just had to shatter all that with the reminder that we weren't silly teenagers and weren't under the best of conditions.

"You do realize that-"

Funny thing about illusions and fantasies; when you're currently sitting on a fine line between them and reality, you tend to lose your place. For instance, I reacted immediately to what I knew Derek was about to say and did something I never even thought of doing to a teacher- let alone a college Professor- before. I reached up and quickly covered his mouth with my hand to prevent him from speaking any further.

"I don't care anymore." I muttered dryly, giving Derek a stern look. Even with my hand covering a portion of his face, he still had the ability to scowl at me.

"Chloe," He sighed, pulling my hand away with the one he still had cupped against my own cheek. He didn't release it, though. Instead, he held it tightly, shut his eyes in a manner of reminding himself that he was the elder here and, therefore, had to think rationally. I wish he didn't.

"We have to be careful about this." He finally said, meeting my eyes with his own in which I could see that he had killed a bit of the light in them since we had kissed.

"That depends on what your definition of 'careful' is."

"What other options do we have, Chloe?" Derek snapped. "I'm your mentor and you're my student. _This_-" He gestured between the two of us as if it were taboo to even utter the idea that we were at the building grounds of something more than a student and teacher relationship. "-isn't exactly smiled upon by society."

"But, if I weren't your student than none of that would even matter, right?"

"Of course not."

"Well-" I started, pulling up an argument there on the spot. I mean, even I had been apprehensive about even thinking that Professor Souza and I could be anything more than what reality told us we were. But, knowing that I wasn't the only one with unreasonable desires and feeling the way that I felt when he had kissed me, whether it was morally wrong or right, it didn't matter anymore.

"-frankly, it's no one's business so we shouldn't worry about whether other people approve of it or not. Also, I'm not going to be a student at this school much longer so, why should all that matter?"

"Because 'all that' could amount to you getting expelled or losing your scholarship," Derek retorted with exasperation, as if I weren't even thinking of these things. And I was, but-

"And I could lose my job."

Well, when he puts it that way…

"I get it." I said, tone sincere to show him that I wasn't being irrational about everything, just resilient.

"I understand the consequences because, trust me, I've thought of them enough. It's whatever you decide, Derek. But, I just want you to know that I'm willing to risk a few things in order to get what I want. To you, this all may be irrational and crazy and, for a while, I thought what I felt towards you was just that. But it's not. To me, it all feels real. It feels possible and now, I strongly believe that it is. Do you?"

Again Derek sighed, but not like an adult trying to explain something to a child. It was like he agreed with me wholeheartedly but couldn't stop thinking about everything that was against us.

"If it makes you feel any better," I added. "My definition of careful is keeping things to myself."

"Great," Derek rumbled, eyes rolling as he fell back into his normal dismissive and stoic demeanor. This was a good sign. It meant that he wasn't stressing- not as much at least.

"Not only are you negotiating the relationship between yourself and your calculus Professor, but you're also making it a point to be a secret affair."

"Of course I'm not," I scoffed, only, Derek merely smirked at me as if challenging me to phrase what I had just suggested differently.

I couldn't.

"Okay, maybe not entirely. I just mean that until we're not both registered under the same school system, then I won't make it Facebook official that I'm in a forbidden relationship with said calculus Professor."

"You're one of those girls?" Derek asked, nose wrinkling in mock displeasure. It was my turn to roll my eyes. To think that I used to be in complete shock at the idea of Derek being the teasing type. In the end, I decided to roll with it.

"Yup. Though, to be honest, I haven't even touched my Facebook since I made it maybe four years ago. Oh my God, my high school friend Miranda will be the first to like the status, she'll be so excited. Wait, shouldn't I be tweeting now-"

When Derek got tired of just glaring at me, he simply dipped his head and occupied my lips enough to shut me up. I laughed against his mouth and wrapped my arms around his neck, taking this as an agreement to my proposal of what he so blatantly labeled as a 'secret affair.'

And that was enough, for now.

**This was so hard for me to write, you guys have no idea. I'm not all that great at the mushy stuff. Along with that, I had to remember that I was writing from Chloe's character and not my own. In the end, though, I'm desperate to have anything written and I apologize if it's poor.**

**Leave a review anyways? After leaving you guys with this, I might need all the help that I can get. :/**

**Wish me luck and I'll catch you guys later! :D**


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note: Hey guys! It's been about two weeks since I last updated. I've been home and quite busy and now I'm getting ready to leave and using my down time at all the airports I have to jump between to write a little bit and hopefully get this chapter out to you before I fly out of the country. I'm hoping that it won't take me too long to get internet set up in my new dorm so that I can jump back into recording the audio logs for my YouTube channel as well as continue writing! **

**Get back to you guys on all of that soon! :D**

**Enjoy!**

**Forbidden**

**Responsibility**

"Oh my God, finally! I've been waiting out here for ages! What happened? Did you fail? I swear, if he gave you a bad grade to force you to retake his class, I'll- I don't know! But I mean, come on! There are far better ways to tell a girl that you like her and-"

"Liz?" I blanched, abruptly taken aback by the blonde hurricane I ran into as I exited the math and science campus.

"What are you doing here and what the hell are you going on about?"

Liz took a step back, a deep breath and then jumped back into her ramblings.

"I decided to stop by and wait for you to get out of class, you know, to see if I needed to wrestle you back in there and confess that you're in love with your calculus Professor-"

"I'm not in love with him." I scoffed. Liz continued as if she hadn't heard me.

"-but when I saw Nate and he was by himself, I figured I didn't have to give you that push at all, that maybe you had already taken that step yourself. I asked him where you were and he said that Professor Souza asked you to stay behind after class and that it didn't look good. He was pissed. So, basically, I've been waiting here for the past thirty minutes worried that Professor Souza had failed you and you would have to retake the class, which would be entirely wrong in my opinion because you've been doing so great catching up and the only explanation I could think of was that he wanted you to have to stay because he's in love with you too-"

"He's not in love with me, Liz." I interjected once again. "And I didn't fail."

"-and if that were the case, it would be somewhat romantic, I suppose-"

"No it wouldn't." I muttered, scrunching up my nose in distaste. She really wasn't hearing me though.

When Liz gets on a rant, she doesn't really stop.

"-but still, that would really affect your overall GPA and you could even lose your scholarship. I mean, how selfish can he be? If he really cared about you and wanted some way to tell you, he'd have lied and given you an exceptional grade that way your future wasn't jeopardized and though it would be agonizingly painful for him to let you go, he would, because he knew that was what was best for you and what you wanted. Now _that_ would be romantic and-"

I finally just reached into my book bag and pulled out my final. I held it up for her to examine right around the, 'he'd have lied and given you an exceptional grade' and it took her a minute to actually shut up, focus, then gasp and rip the test from her hands.

"A 98? Chloe that's incredible! I knew you could do it! I'm so pro- wait," she paused.

Liz lowered the test and her bright blue eyes met mine questioningly, confusion apparent.

"If you didn't fail, then why did you stay so long after class? What were you and Professor Souza talking about?"

I'm sure I had already been a bit flushed after leaving Derek's classroom, however, now I was practically glowing a faint red. If only Liz knew what had held me up after Professor Souza's class. I could still feel his arms constricting just a bit more tightly around my waist and the ghostly touch of his fingers running up the length of my spine. I could feel the heat of his lips against my own despite the chill of January and the exhilarating thrill that zinged through me with each passing touch.

What had Professor Souza and I talked about? Well, not much actually.

"Oh my God," Liz breathed.

I snapped out of the not-too-late memory of Derek's exceptional kissing capabilities to meet Liz's gaze again. She was grinning. Scratch that, she was beaming like a damn fool as if she knew exactly what had taken place inside Derek's lecture hall. As if she had just watched it herself like she had seen a corny, romantic love scene in a movie.

"It's not what you think, Liz-" I started, holding my hands up as if that would deflect where her imagination was going.

"Oh, so he didn't just hold you back to 'congratulate' you for getting a freaking 98 on a final in your worst subject? Don't be so coy, Chloe. He kissed you, didn't he?"

"N-No. It was nothing like that. I-"

"No," Liz uttered, tone again that of a typical school girl who had just received an interesting piece of gossip.

"No, he didn't kiss you. You kissed him!"

If I thought my face couldn't flush any more than it already was.

"You did!" Liz squealed.

"Liz," I breathed, eyes flitting through the parking lot nervously, afraid of anyone overhearing her. After all, I had just promised Derek that I would keep our activity on the down low for the time being. At least until I was no longer attending school at NYU.

There was still a good twenty minutes before Derek's next class started, so the parking lot was quiet. But that didn't mean that there weren't other classes on campus that were about to be released or soon to be starting.

"Oh my God, how was it? Is he a good kisser? I bet he is. How did you reach that high? I mean he's at least a foot taller than you and-"

"Liz?"

"What?" Liz asked, bouncing so much I wouldn't be surprised if her calves would be sore tomorrow from her hyperactive activity.

"If I tell you, would you cool it a notch or two?"

When Liz agreed I had her follow me to my car. Once we were safely out of earshot from any random bystanders I told Liz what had happened when class started this morning, up until I met her in the parking lot. It didn't feel exactly clean telling her after I had just told Derek that I would keep it a secret. But, at the same time, I knew that Liz liked to blab, but not about other people's secrets. If it was something that she knew was meant to be private, she kept it that way and I honestly appreciated having _someone_ to tell. If anything, Liz was almost filling this gap where I knew I would have confided in my mother if she were around.

"A secret romance? That's so exciting! I mean, more exciting than me and Peter for sure." She added the last part with a dramatic sigh and I felt my brows furrow in question.

"What's wrong with you and Peter?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing really." Liz shrugged. "It's just that he's so… blah."

She struggled for the right word but I understood what she meant once she spat it out. Peter had never really been a very exciting person as he had gone to the same high school as Nate, Liz and I. I always thought that he'd be good for Liz because he didn't say much and was a fairly good listener. But I guess Liz was looking for more in a guy than that.

"Are you thinking about breaking up with him?"

"Yeah, I think so. I can feel that he's not all that interested in our relationship anymore as well, so it won't be anything ugly. Maybe we'll still be friends once we come out of it."

"That would be nice." I said.

"Speaking of friends," Liz muttered, tossing me a sideways glance. Suddenly, I felt all my recent elated emotions drop to the pit of my stomach.

I knew exactly where she was going.

"What are you going to do about Nate?"

I still had no idea how I was going to tell him but, especially with what had just taken place between Derek and I, I knew that I had to.

"I know you're worried about losing him, Chloe, but he deserves the truth." Liz said quietly.

"Yeah, I know."

* * *

Later on that evening, after Nate had texted to let me know that he was on his way over to my dorm with a demand to know what had happened with my final, I found myself pacing my room so much that I subconsciously fretted about wearing a trail into my carpet. I had to keep telling myself that I had put this off long enough and it just needed to be done. Hell, it should have been done the moment that he had kissed me.

At the sound of a knock at my door I wished that I had taken care of it back then.

My heart hammered unpleasantly against my ribcage as I made my way over to answer it. For a second, I hesitated, hand resting on the handle, brain preparing for every possible reaction Nate might have once I broke it to him that I couldn't be anything more to him than a friend.

After what I had done, as far as leading him to believe that there was even the smallest chance of us having a relationship, I would deserve nothing more for him to thank me for the disappointment then turn around and walk out of my life.

"Chloe? You in there?" Nate called when I still had yet to let him in.

_Just do it. Face him and get it over with._

Finally, I opened the door. Nate glanced up and his azure orbs lit up upon seeing me. Only, instead of the smile I had expected to see, his eyes were clouded with concern.

"Hey, so what happened?" He blurted, letting himself into my dorm just like he always did and shutting the door behind him.

For a second, I was confused by what he meant. Was he asking why I had taken so long to answer the door? But then he took hold of my shoulders and ducked his head to catch my eye, worry still evident on his features.

"With your final, Chloe. Did he fail you?"

I blinked. Right, my final. I knew that was one of the reasons that he had come over, but with all the pressure and fear of telling Nate the truth, it was placed somewhat on the back burner.

"No, Nate. I didn't fail. Listen, I need to-"

"You didn't?" Nate interrupted, tone more confused now instead of anxious. "Then what was all that bullshit about the note that said you had to see Professor Souza after class?"

"It doesn't really matter," I said passively, avoiding the discussion where I would have to lie to him even more than I already had over this past weekend and would continue to as to the fact that there was someone else to me that he wanted to be.

"But I need to tell you-"

"Of course it matters, Chloe." Nate said, interrupted once again. "If he screwed up your chances to hold onto your credit and lost you your schalorship, I swear I'll-"

"Why does everyone keep thinking that Professor Souza is the one who screwed me over?" I snapped.

Nate blinked, taken aback.

"You and Liz just jump to this conclusion that, if I failed, then it was his fault and that he's spitefully keeping me from maintaining my hold on that damn scholarship. Why doesn't it cross anyone's mind that maybe I was the one that fucked up?"

"I didn't mean-" Nate started, releasing his grip on my shoulders and rubbing the back of his neck nervously. However, I interjected.

"And why did it have to be a negative thing? I mean, sure, the context of the situation sure seemed like Der- eh, I mean, Professor Souza looked pissed and that he was going to scold me for failing, but it was quite the opposite actually. He wanted to congratulate me for excelling in fact."

"Excelling?"

I reached for my book bag and pulled out my final before handing it over to Nate just like I had done with Liz. When he took it for examination, I crossed my arms and watched as his eyes widened in surprise.

"Holy shit, Chloe. A 98? You got a 98!" He bellowed, a smile spreading across his face.

"Yeah, I know I did." I muttered dryly.

I wasn't sure if I had the right to feel so agitated that both Liz and Nate had instantly blamed Derek if I had actually wound up failing my final, but I did. Now that I thought about it, if I had expressed that final score to my aunt who knew very well about my study sessions with a tutor, she would have blamed Professor Souza as well. But whose fault would it have really been? Mine, obviously. I wasn't some perfect little student that never got an answer wrong or made any wrong decisions.

I had trouble with math. I called in sick every now and then for work when I wasn't really sick, just to sleep in on a Saturday. I'd pick up an extra weeknight shift later because I felt bad, but still. I went to college parties when I didn't really want to and drank under age. I desperately used any distraction that I could to forget that someone I knew had been missing for nearly three weeks now. One of those distractions happened to be my extremely attractive math Professor and now recent boyfriend.

I was anything but perfect. I was just a twenty year old college student trying to get by and make her way towards her dreams, as cliché as that sounded and Derek didn't seem to have any problem accepting my faults. So why did my friends and family insist that I never made mistakes and needed to be stood up for? I'm not fifteen anymore. I'm an adult and am perfectly capable of taking responsibility for my actions.

Speaking of which…

"Nate, forget the test. We need to talk."

Nate lowered the test slowly and cocked his head to the side, brows quirking in displeasure.

"Uh oh, the universal line." He murmured, tone that of forced humor. But I could see right through the façade as the walls geared for rejection began to build in his eyes.

He knew.

"I-" I took a deep breath.

_Be firm. Don't stutter. Say what you need to and accept the consequences._

"I thought about what happened, last week when we kissed. For a couple days, I was really confused and I didn't know what to do. For a minute I thought that it was right, you and me, because you're everything any girl would ask for in guy."

"But?" Nate asked, voice quiet and void of emotion.

"But I can't lie to you or myself and say that I feel the same for you as you do for me. Just because we're ideal for each other doesn't make it right. You're my best friend, Nate, and I refuse to lead you on. I just, I can't do that to you."

I waited. Nate's eyes were focused on the floor between us and I could feel my anxiety peak as I waiting in a seemingly endless agony for him to cuss me out and storm off.

Only, he didn't.

"Part of me expected that, I guess." He mumbled finally.

"I understand if you hate me now and-"

A low chuckle. "I don't hate you, Chloe."

When Nate met my eyes, though his held sadness and rejection, I could tell that he was being sincere and was telling the truth.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, heartbroken to see him so dejected. But he surprised me again by giving me a small smile.

"It's not your fault. I like you. That doesn't mean that you have to like me back and I knew that going into this. But I couldn't keep it to myself anymore and though it sucks, I'm glad you were honest with me, like my best friend should be."

"So, I'm still your best friend?" I asked warily.

"Come here." Nate said, taking hold of my shoulders once again in order to pull me against his chest.

I let him, wrapping my arms gratefully around his torso while resting my cheek against his collarbone. I could hardly gather how relieved I felt by Nate's reaction to my rejection but I relished in it nonetheless. I'd done all that I could do which was tell him the truth and he accepted it. I'd never been so grateful to have Nate who was more kind to me than I deserved.

"Of course you are, Chloe. But, I may need some time, you know?"

I pulled back and gave him an apologetic smile.

"Of course."

Nate released me and for a moment, we stood in my dorm in an awkward silence. After a few wordless minutes, Nate cleared his throat and suggested that we break out the course book and fill out our dream sheets for the new term starting on Wednesday like we had originally had planned for the night. Soon after we made ourselves comfortable on my bed, the course book open between us, we simply just fell back into our usual routine and mocking banter.

Nate nearly had all his general credits taken care of so he picked the minimum amount of classes that he had to take in order to achieve his Associate's Degree. I, on the other hand, had skipped out on the physics class that he had taken the year before and decided reluctantly that I should suffer through it this term. Luckily for me, I was particularly close to a physics major who was an exceptional teacher.

Nate and I both signed up for the follow up to our Tuesday and Thursday studio workshop classes. As much as I hated the idea of spending another term with Professor Banks, I knew that it would look good on my credits for when I transferred to Juilliard. With that and the fact that Professor Banks hadn't bothered me or Derek since before Christmas break in mind, I figured there would be no harm in it.

I signed up for the follow-on to my political science and college English classes before I tried to figure out how I'd fill the space for Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings where I'd been in Professor Souza's class.

Then I noticed that Derek only taught second year calculus during the first term of the year. The time slot for the second term was reserved for one of his two follow-on courses. An honors calculus for freshman through seniors.

Though Derek and I were keeping our relationship to ourselves, it didn't look very good that I'd be spending some extra time in his classroom if I didn't have him listed as one of my current teachers. However, if I had a reason, then no one would ever suspect that there was more going on than a teacher tutoring his student.

With the same giddiness I had felt after leaving Derek's classroom that morning, I scribbled the code for his honors class onto my dream sheet and shrugged with a muttered 'It'll look good on my credit sheet' when I caught Nate giving me a questioning look.

To say the least, I paid it no mind. I still had my best friend and now I had Derek. I couldn't wait for the new term to start.

**All done! So, I'd say we're about halfway through the story at this point. What do you guys think? Anyone have any predictions as to what's going to happen? I mean, up until this point, it's been all about getting Derek and Chloe together. Now what? **

**Well, I know what's going to happen next. :P But I'm curious as to what you guys would like to see. Feel free to leave some ideas.**

**Review please!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note: Hey guys! Hello from Korea! **

**This chapter should have been out sometime sooner, but I was bad and starting typing out chapter 21- I haven't even touched 19 or 20- because I've had that scene stuck in my head since starting this story and I'm itching to get it out to you guys. To say the least, you'll all be very pleased.**

**Anyways, UPDATES- I posted a vlog and a few new audio logs for part 1 of Tram Wrecked and chapter 1 of Forbidden, on my YouTube channel. Please do me the honor and go check them out! Links on profile page. If you guys subscribe to my channel, you'll be able to easier see updates whenever I post a new video!**

**Also, I got a new pet! We are only allowed to have fish in our rooms so I got a white and blue beta and named him Poseidon. :) He's happy.**

**Anyways, without further ado- Enjoy!**

**Forbidden**

**Distractions**

I decided not to force anything with Nate considering our fragile relationship at the moment, so my free Tuesday before the new term started came and went with me turning in my course dream sheet alone as well as catching up on some laundry, cleaning around my dorm room and checking up on the latest news from the cinematic universe.

Around two in the afternoon, I found myself rather bored having finished cleaning my room and reorganizing my supplies in my book bag in preparation for classes to resume the following day. So, I did something I hadn't done since New Year's and hadn't _intentionally_ done since given the opportunity back before Christmas break.

I called Derek.

"Hello?"

"Hi." I said, smiling when I heard his gruff voice on the other end of the line.

"I'm afraid I'm busy, Miss Saunders. I have quite a few preparations to make for the new term and I don't have the time to chat with old students."

For a second, my brain stuttered. Miss Saunders? Since when did he revert back to addressing me by my last name? And old student? I wasn't calling him for academic reasons. I was calling him because he was my boyfriend- or so I thought- and I wanted to hear his voice.

What the hell-

"Um, that was a joke." Derek muttered after a minute where I hadn't replied.

"Oh." I said, mind gathering this new information and processing it into our conversation.

"And a really bad one, apparently. So much for Simon's idea of an icebreaker during the first phone call. I should have known better than to listen to his relationship advice."

As Derek rambled quickly the situation clicked in my brain and I realized that he was nervous. So nervous that he was taking horrible dating advice from his own brother- which didn't really surprise me that he was aware of which as I'm sure Simon badgered Derek about me as much as Liz did the same to me about Derek.

Suddenly, I was laughing.

"It really wasn't that funny of a joke, Chloe." Derek deadpanned.

"No," I giggled. "It wasn't funny at all. That's why I'm laughing."

"Whatever." He mumbled in a tone where I could just imagine him rolling his eyes as well.

There was a pause and then he asked, "Isn't there a rule where we can't talk to each other for three days or something?"

I was laughing again, this time so hard that I was doubled over on my bed gasping for air when I was finally done.

"T-that's after you first get a girl's number, Derek." I rasped out through fits of laughter.

"Oh."

"Let me guess. More of Simon's expertise?"

"Shut up."

It took a lot of effort but I kept my giggles to a minimum.

"I think you should just stick to your own thing and toss all your brother's advice out the window."

"That would probably be best." He replied after a snort.

I wanted to ask him what he was doing, how he was feeling, what he's been thinking about since the day before. But it all seemed too cliché to do over a phone call. We were just starting out this thing after making a huge leap as far as relations went. Yesterday morning, he had been my teacher. Today, he was my boyfriend. And though I knew I was going to see him tomorrow when classes resumed, it would merely be as his student again. I really wanted to see him outside the whole school environment without the interruption of work like all those times he came to the diner.

The diner was a common interest and did seem like the ultimate icebreaker, however, and it appeared as if the two of us still needed that.

"So, I was thinking about heading to the Michael's for dinner." I said. "I was wondering if you wanted to join me."

Though I knew how Derek felt about me, I still felt an uneasy squirm of nervousness in my gut at my request. Despite our status, rejection was still a factor and I felt like a silly school girl asking the popular, cool guy out on a date. Not that it was necessarily a date. Just a mere get together since the two of us had the day off and an opportunity to relate to one another without math having anything to do with whatever conversation we might have.

There was a sigh on the other end of the receiver and my heart sank.

"I'd love to, Chloe, but the part about preparing for the new term wasn't exactly a joke. I have to finish my weekly lesson plans and I procrastinated enough by going out and tossing around a football with Simon."

Though I still felt the stab of rejection, my curiosity became the dominant emotion.

"You play football?"

An amused chuckle. "Recreationally. I was never on a team or anything. Moving around a lot made the concept unappealing to me. It was more Simon's thing anyways, but with basketball."

"Huh." I stated simply, mind veering in a direction that held an imagining of a younger Derek yielding Buffalo High School's colors in a football letterman jacket. I had never really been the jock type, but the image did suit his build quite nicely.

"Yeah. So, I'm afraid I'll have to decline your offer for tonight. You do work this weekend though, right?"

"Friday, Saturday and Sunday, but I was kind of hoping work wouldn't get in the way if we were to meet up." I answered.

"I'm sure we'll figure something out." Derek rumbled. "However, for now, I'll be sure to stop by Saturday morning. I could go for some of that pie."

I laughed.

"I'm starting to think that you only befriended me for Michael's pie."

"Definitely. Because it sure as hell wasn't because of your mathematical talents."

"Hey!" I scoffed.

"No offense." He added.

"Yeah right."

There was a light chuckle on the other end and though I was already smiling like a giddy child, I felt my stomach erupt into a fit of flutters at a sound that I knew was reserved for only those who were important to Derek.

"So, I'll see you on Saturday then?" Derek asked, tone holding just the slightest hesitation. I smirked.

"Well, I suppose if you just happen to show up, I'll have no choice in the matter."

Derek snorted and gave a quick teasing remark before expressing that he really had to get back to his lesson plans. He promised to come by the diner early Saturday morning while business was slow and then signed off, leaving me stretched out on my bed and grinning like an idiot. If he was really convinced that he wouldn't be seeing me until Saturday, he was sure in for a surprise.

* * *

I knew there had been a reason why I had chosen to skip Physics when Nate had opted into taking it right away the previous year. It was boring. As I left Professor Wang's introduction lecture, I couldn't depict whether I was more eager to leave because I was minutes from passing out to the sound of the physics teacher's low droning voice or that I was just a few classrooms and moments away from Derek's class. Either way, it was a good thing that I had signed up for the follow-on honors course, that way I'd have something to look forward to as I suffered through the mind draining subject.

Well, less of something and more of someone.

Walking into Derek's lecture hall, just like I had done the whole term before, I stole a glance towards his desk. He wasn't paying much attention to the students filing in. Instead he had his back to the classroom, his daily apple in his right hand as he wrote the lesson on the chalkboard with his left. I cocked my head to the side noticing this. I hadn't ever realized that he was left handed. In fact, I had always just assumed that he used his right hand.

Actually, it wasn't really an assumption. I could have almost sworn that he was right handed, as much time as I had admired him from afar and watched him while in class, I had always seen his dominant of the two be his right.

Perhaps the new fact about him that I hadn't known was not that he was left handed, just ambidextrous. I couldn't help smiling at this fact. I loved the thought that I still had so much to learn about Derek and that I actually had the chance and the time to.

I decided that I would just take my regular seat in the back though I somewhat regrettably didn't have Nate to neighbor me. However, when I found myself at my desk, Nate's was occupied by a light haired girl I recognized from my English class. Miranda I think her name was.

"Do you have this seat saved for anyone," I asked her politely, knowing full well that she was a rather popular girl and had a plethora of friends that she might want to sit with. After all, since I didn't have Nate to accompany me, I didn't have to sit in any particular spot.

Miranda's pretty hazel eyes met mine and she smiled nicely enough, recognition igniting in her orbs.

"Hey, weren't you in Professor Carter's lectures with me last term? Chloe, right?"

"Yeah, that's me. Actually, I'll still be in Professor Carter's class. I decided to take the follow-on." I answered with a shrug. Miranda gasped.

"No way, me too! Oh and yeah, you can have this seat. None of my friends wanted to take honors calculus with me, meaning I'm on my own. But it's nice to see a familiar face."

I nodded an agreement and took the seat next to her, finding it personally funny that she reminded me somewhat of Liz as being rather chatty.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I was in second year calculus last term with my best friend and he wouldn't even consider continuing. I'm actually surprised that I convinced _myself_ to take another math class when I have more than enough credits already."

I was merely trying to make conversation before class started and Derek finally realized that I was here. Though Miranda and I had never even once said a simple hello to each other, she seemed pleasant and it wouldn't hurt to have a partner to get through the class with if I couldn't have Nate. Except, she gave me a slightly knowing and cheeky grin at my words and I was suddenly under the impression that I should regret my decision to have taken the seat next to her.

"It's because the math teacher is a total hottie, isn't it?"

"Excuse me," I blanched, taken off guard. Miranda smirked.

"Don't think you're fooling anyone, Chloe. I'm on to you."

At her words my heart staggered. What was that supposed to mean? On to what? Did she know about Derek and I, about our less professional and more personal relationship?

"Gosh, you're blushing like a ripe little tomato." Miranda laughed. "So I'm right then?"

"R-right about w-what?" I asked.

"Come on, Chloe. I know you're only in this class because of Professor Souza. I can tell because that gorgeous man is the only reason in hell I'd sign up for an honors class, let alone one about math. I suck at math. I kind of have this crazy little fantasy that he'll have pity on me and will offer to tutor me and then, well, you know." She finished, waggling her eyebrows.

I stared at her for a moment, brain trying to comprehend, trying so damn hard to piece together what she was saying. Something in the back of my head nagged and expressed that I should have been wary, or maybe even jealous as any normal girlfriend would have been about hearing her boyfriend being talked about in such a way by another girl. However, my movie brain put Miranda's 'fantasy' together in my head and I wound up busting up with laughter from what my imagination came up with.

"That sounds like the beginning to an awful porno."

Although, I shouldn't really poke fun. After all, the beginning of Miranda's fantasy with Derek had in fact been my reality. Just far more innocent and relative. Miranda giggled along with me and shrugged nonchalantly.

"Hey, for someone that rugged, I'll take what I can get."

"Good lord," I chortled.

I didn't have anything to worry about. Miranda just had a little more crude of a humor than I did and she was only having some fun. What was important was that she had no idea about me and Derek and that pushed away any jealousy I might have towards even the slightest chance of Miranda living out her dirty little desire with NYU's best looking math Professor.

We moved on to different topics and chatted a bit before the bell sounded, signaling that class was beginning. The class settled as Derek- in full blown Professor Souza mode- called it to order.

"Good morning, students. Welcome to honors calculus, I am your instructor, Professor Souza. If you're looking for third year calc or you're not even sure how the hell you wound up in a math class while searching for a less meaningful subject as perhaps liberal arts, the door is there." He gestured towards said door with a jerk of his chin before picking up his clip board sitting on his desk.

"However, though any of you are free to leave if you don't desire to be here, stay long enough for me to take role from my roster. That way I can give your place to someone who wants it sitting on the waitlist."

Derek read through his roster and only a couple students informed him that they didn't want to be in the course. He filtered through the names without looking up from his list. As he reached the R's I couldn't help the leer from tugging at my lips.

"Caitlyn Ruthmore."

"Here."

"Ramon Santos."

"Yeah."

"Chloe Sau-"

Derek's head shot up and his eyes instantly trained to my seat, jade orbs meeting mine as the rest of my name slipped between his lips. His brows bent just a fraction, his true colors seeping through his professionalism as he seemed to ask 'What the hell are you doing here, Chloe?' with his look.

"Here." I replied, smirk growing.

Derek frowned and there was just the smallest hint of a roll in his eyes when he glanced back down at his roster and continued to call names. I sat back into my seat, crossing my arms in somewhat of a victorious manner as I observed him. I knew he could feel my eyes on him, for his shoulders tensed just slightly and his features were taut. I was sure that he wasn't mad, just a little peeved by the surprise.

Derek didn't like surprises. Good to know.

The class wasn't anything more than an introduction as to what we would be accomplishing this term as well as all of Derek's expectations and class regulations, which weren't any different than the previous term. He was sure that most of his students wouldn't be too focused on the lesson considering it was only the first day and he didn't want to get too far ahead when he would be expecting a few new students come Friday due to the now open slots. So he simply read through the syllabus, informed the class to read over the fourth chapter in our textbooks, then released us ten minutes early.

When I wasn't in any hurry to leave the classroom, Miranda asked if I was coming and I simply told her that I had a couple questions to ask Professor Souza. She winked and bounced out of the room. Not without uttering 'Goodbye, Professor Souza,' and giving him a cute little wave before passing through the door frame. Derek had merely nodded in her direction, then dropped his syllabus atop his desk once the door clicked shut and tossed me a stern look.

"Chloe, what are you doing?"

"What?" I asked, batting my lashes innocently. I leaned against the back of my desk before continuing.

"I can't take advantage of how great my credit sheet will look after I ace the follow-on to my second year calculus course?"

A snort. "Yeah, I'm sure that's why you decided to sign up for this class."

I clutched the left side of my chest in a very Simon-like manner, portraying to be wounded by his words. Derek rolled his eyes and made his way around his desk.

"Of course it is, Professor Souza. Why else would I have-"

"-volunteered for a course on your least favorite subject?" Derek finished for me, moving closer. "I think I have an idea."

"Actually," I said. "I think I'll have to change my least favorite subject to physics, which I completely and entirely volunteered for with academic reason. So, really, you're argument is invalid."

Derek stopped in his trek as he was drawing closer to me and gave me a perplexed look, nose scrunching in displeasure.

"Physics is _not_ that bad."

"It's boring. How and why you majored in it, I have no idea."

"How can physics be boring? Maybe you just need someone to explain it to you better."

I shrugged.

"Well, that's what you're for. Unlike your invaluable reasons to use me for the diner's pie, I was smarter about it. I'm using you for your brain so that I can get myself through classes and lectures on things I really don't need."

I got a look for that one. Soon, though, it became a smirk and he closed the rest of the space between us. Derek, leaned forward and placed his hands against the desk on either side of me, caging me there. His green eyes met and held mine, doing that thing where he looked at me so intensely, I wouldn't be surprised if I'd melt into a puddle of mush at his feet.

"This is a very rigorous course, Chloe. Mathematical theories and equations can be broken down into thousands of connected ideologies and logistics. So, though a lot of what you're going to see in this course may seem familiar, they're not. Do you think you can handle it?"

I swallowed audibly, for the first time really thinking about what I might have to endure in this class. Calculus had already been hard enough. Of course an honors class would be more challenging. But, Derek had taught me all the tricks to grasping, understanding and not second guessing myself as I worked. On top of that, he was an exceptional teacher.

It might be tough, but I was sure that I was more than capable of managing it. If anything, my boyfriend would be able to help me if I got stuck.

"I know I can handle it," I answered.

Derek's lips twitched, forming that small smile of his.

"If you're sure then. However, you'll need to be pretty focused. There's no room for distractions."

"And what do you mean by distractions?"

Derek leaned closer and I happily met him halfway. His lips brushed mine gently, making my heart stagger, my grin wider and my brain go blank. He hovered there, waiting and I inched closer, ready to leap away from my desk in order to make the full connection.

Derek pulled back a fraction of an inch and it took me a minute to realize that he was making me chase him for it. When he figured out that I made the discovery, he stood up straight and smirked at me.

"_That's_ what I mean by distractions." He rumbled. I fixed him with a frown which caused him to chuckle.

Ambidextrous, doesn't care for surprises and a complete tease. I definitely still had much more to learn.

**Bleh. Haha. I didn't care much for my transitioning skills in this chapter, but it is what it is. New character. Anyone have any guesses or predictions for Miranda? I needed another kind of boy crazed character for the plot and had recently re-read The Summoning and remembered her as one of Chloe's old friends who pressured her a lot with boys. Anyways, I had to develop a lot of her character myself, so I kind of gave her my crude humor. :/ Haha.**

**Also, I hope Derek doesn't seem too out of character. It is my purpose to make him seem a little less brooding and initially mean just because he's not a kid anymore. He's an adult and this is an AH, so his history is different. I don't know, I felt like it stuck out too much in this chapter.**

**As always, let me know what you guys think and please, PLEASE, GO WATCH THE AUDIO LOGs AND MY VLOG! LINKS ARE ON MY PROFILE PAGE. The vlog kind of answers a lot of the questions you guys constantly ask me and if you need me to explain some more things and how I do my work, feel free to ask. **

**Anyways, REVIEW!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note: Did y'all miss me? Regardless, I hope you guys didn't miss this guy too much, he's been dying to get back into the story. ;p**

**Enjoy!**

**Forbidden**

**Trust**

Our meet up at the diner on Saturday did not go over as well as both Derek and I would have liked.

The rest of the week after classes had resumed on Wednesday had passed rather quickly. Miranda invited me to sit with her and her friend Kari during Professor Carson's English lecture and I didn't get a chance to see Liz or Nate later on for our studio workshop class as Professor Banks had called it off for the day. He had sent all the students an email explaining that he had a few things to take care of and couldn't find a stand in. To be honest, since that meant that his classes didn't resume until the following Tuesday and I didn't have to see him until then, I personally wasn't complaining.

On Friday Derek issued our class the first homework assignment of the term and he offered to stay after classes ended for the day to assist me if I needed it. I simply accepted the challenge to do it myself and prove that I was more than capable to handle his class, then told him that I would see him the following morning.

Only, the following morning had been an unusually busy one at the diner. When Derek walked in, I was calling up Beth and Connor for extra hands because there was no way that Marcus and I could handle the shift ourselves where we normally could. I had enough time to serve him his usual coffee and slice of pie, and that was about the most I saw of him. When I made my way to his table to hand him his check, I had an apology on my lips, however, he simply stood and placed a bill on the table before leaning in and murmuring something into my ear.

"Request the eighth off of work."

He gave me a swift peck on the cheek then left. When I went to the back office to put down my request after my shift, I noticed that the eighth was two weeks away, on a Friday. I wondered what he had planned.

As the days continued to pass, I worried that Nate was a little more wounded than he had let on the previous week, as I hadn't seen him since I'd broken the truth to him. There had been several times where I picked up my phone with the intent to text or call him, but he said he would need some time and the least that I could do was respect that.

Fortunately though, on Tuesday, when Professor Banks finally held the first studio workshop class of the term, Nate trotted right up to Liz and I who were sitting next to each other on the auditorium stage, legs dangling over the edge, and hoisted himself up to sit between us. He threw his arms over both of our shoulders ad grinned.

"Only one more term ladies. Then it's off to Juilliard and a lifetime of fame." He stated, tone overdramatized. Liz rolled her eyes and I snorted.

"You still have to make it through auditions, movie star."

He tossed me a pointed look and replied with an air of cockiness.

"Chloe, we've been rehearsing for over a year. I couldn't care less if the auditions were next month or next week. We're ready. Hell, we're practically already accepted."

"Well, the auditions _are_ next month and, considering we're still in Professor Banks' class, I'd say we're nowhere closer to being accepted into Juilliard as we were last term."

Nate chuckled.

"Way to bring me down, Chloe."

I tried to catch if there was any implication in his words that pertained to me turning him down a couple weeks before, but I only found my old friend poking fun at me as if the very event never happened. I wondered though, if Professor Banks hadn't called his class to order, then would I have found something? Or was Nate really okay with my decision?

"I'd apologize for the delay of the term, guys," Professor Banks announced as he ascended the stairs of the stage to begin his class. He smirked at his own words and gave a halfhearted shrug. "But I'm sure you all appreciated the free hour last week while the rest of your classes were resuming so, we'll just leave it at that."

It was strange really, as I listened to Professor Banks talk about what we'd be doing this term and the next play we had to set up for, I realized just how much I had forgotten that he even existed. Before Christmas break, he was like a bodiless breath on the back of my neck, having the hair on my arms stand on end. All because of one lone encounter with him in this very auditorium and the frightening, dangerous light that ignited in his eyes once I mentioned that I was being tutored by Derek. Derek had clearly expressed that Professor Banks was bad news and that I didn't need to worry about it as long as I kept my distance from him.

Then of course, just as school was getting out for break, Derek and Royce had their little confrontation that raised even more questions about their history.

It wasn't until now, when he was explaining the day's task of stripping the stage of its Christmas Carol backdrop and his brown eyes flickered in my direction before resting there, holding my gaze and throwing me somewhat of a smarmy smile, that I remembered just how wary I was of this man.

Why hadn't I been more observant and careful after Christmas break ended whenever I was around him in this class? Why hadn't I questioned why he was gone the previous week? Why had I even signed up for his class again in the first place? Had I seriously forgotten how uncomfortable he made me feel?

And then more things that I should have been contemplating more than I was came rushing back to me.

Why was Derek's father involved with whatever had happened between him and Professor Banks in the past? Why was Royce even a teacher here if Derek strongly believed that he shouldn't be and why had Derek's own teaching ability been under question when they both applied here?

Aside from Royce, what about Derek himself? Sure, I knew I had yet to learn so much about him, but that had always been centered more on the present Derek. What about his past? Why did he refuse to tell me about his concerns of Professor Banks? Shouldn't I be a little informed as to what I should be avoiding if he had been so adamant on me doing just that? And what about that day he had showed up at the diner, when Rae was pronounced missing? Where had he come from and why had he been in an all-fire hurry to leave once he saw what I did on the news?

And, oh God, Rae. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that Rae was dead. You don't just go missing for more than four weeks without so much as a word of your whereabouts unless something had happened to you. Especially in New York City. For all anyone knew, she could have been mugged and left in some alley to die. She could have been kidnapped or hurt somewhere without means of help or-

"Chloe? Hey, are you alright?"

Liz's soft voice broke through the hysterical typhoon my brain was forming and I blinked, finding those chocolate brown eyes still holding mine, flashing in a mixture of sneering amusement and curiosity.

All _that_ had come from just looking Royce Banks in the eye.

I stifled a shuddering breath, blinked hard and forced my gaze to Liz. Her and Nate watched me, eyes dark with concern.

"What?"

"Nate was asking what you wanted to get started on." Liz said. "Professor Banks said he wanted to take down the set from the last play but, you zoned out. You looked stressed about something."

"Oh, no it's nothing." I stated, shaking off the grimy feeling I got under Royce's stare. "Um, why don't we take down your beautiful bushes, Liz? You worked so hard on them that it's only fitting that you take them down."

Liz's nose scrunched up, recalling her awful paint job from a couple months before when she had been too busy ogling the arts teacher. Nate released a snort and made a teasing jab before standing and heading over towards said bushes. Liz scoffed and dragged me up with her. I smiled, however, as I followed them, I couldn't push against the feeling of Professor Banks' eyes on me.

* * *

"Four."

I blinked, a bit startled by the unexpected sound of someone talking and came crashing back into the present. I looked up to see jade eyes staring back at me, a dark brow raised a bit as they assessed me.

I was sitting across from Derek at his desk. However, the end of studio workshop and making my way to his classroom, as well as sitting here working on some problems I had missed from Friday's homework was all a blur. I couldn't seem to fight the distraction caused from the whirlpool of questions that had manifested in my brain when Professor Banks had looked at me earlier.

I shook my head and gave Derek a questioning look, trying to clear my thoughts. He was lounging rather comfortably in his reclining, office-like chair with his feet propped up on his side of the desk. There was a packet of papers that he was grading sitting in his lap as he absentmindedly chewed on the cap of his red pen. If I hadn't been so mentally disrupted by all these undesirably thought provoking questions running amok through my head, I'd have marveled by the fact that this was the most relaxed I'd ever seen him.

"I'm sorry. I spaced out. What were you saying?"

Derek's gaze held mine for a moment longer, studying me before he gestured towards my sheet of equations.

"You've been working that problem for the last twenty minutes. You know the answer, but you won't write it down. The answer is four."

I observed the equation I had been working on and noted that I had, in fact, worked the entire problem through but hadn't written out the answer. I mumbled a quick 'Oh yeah' and scribbled down the number four before moving over to the next question.

"What's wrong?" Derek asked bluntly. I heard the shuffle of his papers and clothing as he sat himself straight, pulling his feet off the desk and focusing his attention on me.

I debated answering. When I was on my way to his classroom I had thought of asking him outright what the hell had happened between him and Royce and why I felt so uncomfortable around him though I knew close to nothing of the guy. The feeling had nothing to do with Derek's warnings. I'd had them before Derek said anything about steering clear of the guy.

But I remembered that I had already tried that and Derek had shot me down. But why though? Would things be different now that we were closer than we were back then? Would he be more open on the subject? I didn't see why it wasn't worth a try, but, I wasn't sure how I was going to bring it up. I guess now was as good as time as any, seeing as how Derek was laying the opportunity out on a silver platter as he continued to survey me.

"Chloe, what is it?"

He must have been able to detect the look of anticipation and uncertainty on my face, for his tone went from curious to low with concern. I put down my pencil and looked up at him again, taking a deep breath.

_Well, here goes nothing._

"It's Professor Banks."

Derek's aura suddenly took a dangerous plummet as his skin paled, his worried expression morphing into one of anxiety and question before taking on that of anger. I realized my mistake as his fists clenched atop his desk, knuckles going white.

"Oh, no, nothing happened!" I blurted as my hands spazzed about to deter him from thinking so. He didn't seem to comprehend my words though, so I calmed my tone and tried again.

"Nothing happened, Derek. I'm just-" I tried to choose my words carefully in hopes to ease him out of his anger but keep him from being displeased with my questions like he had been the last time. It wasn't as if I worried about upsetting him. In fact, even if I did, I'd find a way to get my answers. I just knew him well enough now to know that he wasn't easy to converse with when he clearly didn't want to have anything to do with the topic.

So, I started with what had happened during class today. Clearly, that hadn't been the right decision. I'd barely gotten out the words 'Well, today in his class I-' before his eyes snapped back up to mine, igniting with incredulous disbelief.

"You enrolled yourself in his class again?" He blanched. I cringed inwardly, having thought pretty much the same thing when I had met Royce's gaze today.

Derek looked about two seconds from jumping to his feet and chewing me out. Funny enough, his expression seemed somewhat familiar, though, I couldn't quite put my finger on why I thought I had seen it before. And, based on the looming vibes I was getting from him, I didn't think that I wanted to.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Derek exclaimed, his tone and words triggering at something in the back of my head. I could vaguely recall the blur of a lively suburbia whizzing by, dark since it was the middle of the night but vivacious due to the fact that it was nearly New Year's. However, from what I could remember from New Year's Eve, this wasn't really part of it.

_I was sitting in a dark sedan, uncomfortable under the warm breeze blowing through the ventilation system of the vehicle. I felt strange. Like my brain was all foggy and unfocused, though, I could very much feel a seething Professor Souza at my side._

"_What the hell were you thinking?" Professor Souza barked, hands gripping tightly on the steering wheel as he veered through traffic towards the University. I had all but forgotten my little rendezvous with Liam and was more or less bouncing with excitement seeing as how I was sitting in Professor Souza's car. I mean sure, he didn't seem too happy with me at the moment but I couldn't help the elated feeling knowing that he was here, watching out for me._

"_I thought I told you not to do anything stupid." _

"_Actually, you said that if I was going to do something stupid then I might as well be smart about it." I corrected nonchalantly, messing with the temperature knob of his heater. _

"_In which case you weren't, Chloe," Professor Souza snapped. _

"_I called you, didn't I?" My tone sounded an awful lot like that of how he was treating me. A teenage brat who had snuck off in the middle of the night and had been caught by her parents. Somewhere, suffocated by the alcohol, I hated that I was reacting this way. Of course, I knew I would have argued back. I would have tried to plead my case, show him that I wasn't going to sit here and take his crap. But that side of me was pretty intoxicated._

"_By accident. This isn't a joke. If I hadn't heard you telling Liam to back off at the beginning of the phone call, I wouldn't have been able to figure out where you were. You were going to leave by yourself and for all I knew, you were going to hop into your car and drive home-"_

"_I'm not _that_ stupid." I interrupted. " I didn't even drive to the party."_

"_So you planned on drinking then." Professor Souza rumbled coldly, accusing me. He finally got tired of me fiddling with the conditioning of his car and swatted my hand away from the controls, settling for turning it off. _

"_Of course I didn't. Sure, I wound up deciding to during the party but I didn't leave my room today thing 'Oh, I'm going to get so wasted tonight.'"_

"_Regardless, you did something reckless and you nearly got yourself hurt." _

My head spun a bit, temples throbbing as I tried to reach for more of the memory, but it seemed to slip. I'd nearly forgotten that I had no recollection of what had happened the night of the party after I had gotten into Derek's car. Hell, I'd forgotten that I had wanted to ask him about it, though, seeing that little snippet, I'm pretty sure I wanted to question Derek about that as much as I wanted to question him about his history with Royce.

Carefully.

I shook off the minor headache from the little flashback and continued to answer Derek's previous question.

"To be honest, after break, I had more or less forgotten that Professor Banks had even existed. I mean, I guess subconsciously I kept my distance from him like you said but-"

"But what, Chloe?" Derek retorted angrily. "You just figured that he left you alone so you'd might as well willingly sign up for his next class, despite the fact that I warned you to keep as far from him as possible?"

"That's not it, Derek." I snapped, temper flaring at his tone. Unlike in his car the night of the party, I was completely sober and was ready to fight by what I had said the last time we delved into this subject. I wasn't a child and I didn't appreciate being addressed as if I were one.

"These aren't anything more than excuses, because you're right. I should have been a bit more cautious. But, maybe if I hadn't been dealing with Nate-"

"Nate?" Derek questioned, his agitated expression momentarily taking one of confusion and something I couldn't quite pinpoint.

"-or dealing with my feelings for you-"

"Don't try to pin the blame on me, Chloe." He tried interrupting again, his frustration coming back.

"-or maybe if I actually knew what was going on-"

That silenced him. This time the look he was giving me didn't change for a split second. His eyes became wary though they still held disapproval.

"I know we've gone over this before. But, don't you think that things are a bit different now? I don't like the way I feel when I'm around him," I said slowly, articulating each word knowing that I felt the very fear as if it were Professor Banks himself that I was talking to. "And I think that I deserve to know why it is that I do feel this way. Why you reacted the way that you did when I first told you about it and why you keep insisting that I follow that instinct whenever he's near."

The room fell silent for a long moment. I watched as Derek turned my words around in his head and I thought- hoped- for a minute there that he was really considering on just telling me the truth. When he met my eyes again and noted that there was no chance in me wavering from this resolve, he sighed heavily, leaned forward over his desk and folded his hands together. With a firm and determined expression, Derek opened his mouth to speak and-

A sudden, enthusiastic rap on the door had the two of us glancing in that direction. Though Derek said nothing to acknowledge the uninvited guest, the door cracked open and Miranda's smiling face popped I through the door frame.

"Hey, Professor Souza, I was thinking about- oh, um, am I interrupting?" Miranda's hazel eyes locked on me but I was surprised to see no question there. I'd have suspected that she'd be curious as to why I was here, but she merely threw me a friendly grin before turning her attention to Professor Souza.

"I'm sorry, I forgot that you tutored Chloe after classes."

Frankly, I liked Miranda and I wasn't really threatened by her little crush on Derek. However, her intrusion in act of her affections for him had probably just cost me the rare chance that Derek was actually going to tell me more about his past. I was sure that he was going to talk, but now, there wasn't a doubt that the moment had passed.

"Ms. Rivers, aren't you supposed to be studying with Mr. Ricci? I informed him of your request for a tutor after our conversation last Thursday and he explained that he'd be more than willing to help you."

I had to struggle to hide the slight smile from gracing my lips at the sound of Derek's statement. It seemed that Miranda had come during office hours the previous week in hopes of making her fantasy that she had told me about a reality. She wanted to be tutored by Professor Souza. Though it seemed that Derek had informed her that he was already tutoring me- which would explain her last comment and how she knew I was here- and had placed her with Peter. Liz had told me before that her ex-boyfriend was exceptional at math and had been looking for a gig to tutor someone for some extra credit. Of course, I'd had already been proposed the idea to work with Derek at the time instead.

There was no contest.

Regardless, Derek had turned Miranda away and though I was possibly a bit selfish for feeling this way, I kind of liked that he had specifically decided to help me back then. It briefly made me wonder how long Derek's felt the way he does about me now.

"Well," Miranda started. "He called me and said that something came up for the week and that he wouldn't be able to make it. So, I was thinking that since you already tutor Chloe during the week, I might as well tag along seeing as how we're both in the same class."

If she had thought all that, then there was no way she actually forgot that Derek was tutoring me today. She wasn't very good at plotting now was she?

Derek didn't look fooled though and for a second, he tossed me an uncomfortable glance. Not only was I getting somewhat of a kick out of Miranda's attempts to get close to Derek, but also his clear displeasure with the situation. I wondered how often he had to deal with this. I was more absorbed by the comical event playing put before me that I nearly forgot about what Derek and I had been discussing before Miranda had arrived.

"I suppose we can start tomorrow." Derek finally said. "Chloe and I were about to call it a day."

Miranda smiled in victory and replied with a cheery "Alright. I'll see you two tomorrow then," then turned on her heal and left the classroom. Derek grimaced uncomfortably and I couldn't help feeling a bit disappointed. It looked like the only legit reason Derek and I had to be alone at school had been stripped away in a matter of five minutes.

"Chloe, do you trust me?"

I glanced up at him, brows furrowing in question. His green orbs held that same determined glow from before Miranda had walked in, only there was a small difference. I was slightly taken aback by his question and wondered for a moment if he meant that I trusted him with Miranda.

But then I noticed the minimal flair of hostility in his eyes and knew that we were back on the subject of Royce.

"Of course I do." I answered honestly.

"Then trust me when I say that the reason I'm not telling you about Royce is not because I don't think that you deserve to know. It's because I want to keep you as uninvolved in the situation as possible."

Derek's gaze was unwavering, focused and so serious that I wasn't sure if I'd be able to look away even if I had wanted to. I did trust him and I did believe him. But that still wasn't good enough for me. It was obvious that Derek was going to spill his guts before Miranda interrupted, but it was becoming more and more clear that Derek and I were going to have to be a little more careful about our relationship and we both knew that. Including what Derek had wanted to tell me but was now deciding against it because our lack of privacy and the death of his nerve.

So even if he said he wasn't going to give me the answers that I wanted right now and made it seem like he was going to keep them from me, that wasn't going to keep me from asking again when we were actually alone. When that chance would occur, I wasn't sure. Perhaps on the eighth, when he had asked me to take the day off of work. Maybe later than that. It didn't matter.

I was going to keep bothering him about it. About Royce and Rae and maybe even about the rest of that night during New Year's, I'd find out some way or another.

**So, this was more or less a refresher chapter. I wanted to rehash the main points of the plot and it was a huge struggle to get on the screen. And when I say struggle, I mean I've been writing this since the moment I updated chapter 18 over a month ago and I had to squeeze out every last word. I apologize for the delay, but I hope this chapter had the effect that I liked it to have. :p**

**Any predictions as to what you guys think is going to happen? Leave a review! :D**

**Also, my birthday is on Monday. I'm going to try and update by then, but no promises.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note- Alright, so this chapter did not go anything like I had expected it to. In fact, this chapter would have probably been another 3,000 words if I hadn't cut myself off. With that being said, everything I had planned for chapter 21 will actually be in chapter 22. Regardless, I actually had some fun writing this chapter and it's been a while since I've felt that way towards this story. :)**

**Also, thanks for all the birthday wishes. You guys warm my heart and I only wish I could have gotten this to you sooner. **

**Nevertheless, enjoy!**

**Forbidden**

**Anticipation**

I really had nothing against Miranda. She was friendly and pretty and had a lot of things going for her as well as a bright future. And I wanted to be friends with her. I really did. But that was really hard to do when she was sapping any and all time I could be spending alone with Derek.

I took in a lot of comfort knowing that Derek wasn't too happy with her hanging around either.

I knew that things would have seemed easier if I had been able to confide in her just like I could with Liz and explain to her that, well, Derek was unavailable. But contrary to that desire, it would have made keeping the entire 'math professor dating one of his students' deal harder to manage. I didn't know Miranda well enough to know whether or not I could trust her with that kind of information. She didn't seem like a sleazy type of girl- despite her obvious attempts to get Derek's attention- but I couldn't be sure.

So Derek and I dealt with it.

We went back to secret glances and small, knowing smiles across the classroom during honors calculus as if the two of us had an inside joke that we couldn't get enough of. Derek would sit at his desk going through paperwork as he left the class to open study and I'd glance up at him to see him looking my way. I'd imitate falling asleep considering how dull the material was and he'd roll his eyes.

Then Miranda would squeal silently beside me and whisper something like 'Look! I think Professor Hottie is looking at me.' Then she'd give a cute little wave and Derek would glance away, as if he were studying his students to make sure that they were actually doing the work he had assigned.

It was worse during the study sessions. After the first week where Peter claimed he couldn't tutor Miranda, he told Professor Souza that he was available again but, Miranda insisted that she felt she was learning more having one on one time- or close to it seeing as I was very much in the way- with the math Professor himself. Derek couldn't fight that because, if she wound up failing, that'd be on his teaching credibility as an instructor. So she stuck around.

I half wondered as I sat on the sidelines observing- mostly to keep myself from blurting 'Back off, he's taken'- if I was just as bad as her as far as my prying questions and desire to get to know Derek. I liked to think that I was able to take little comfort in the idea that I wasn't quite as obvious seeing as how Derek was less than pleased and more than uncomfortable with Miranda's presence and constant questions. Most of the time, it was quite annoying. But there was this one moment that I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from breaking down with laughter. It was the following Tuesday and Derek was pointing out a few mistakes Miranda had made on one of the problems she was having issues with when she said, "Professor Souza you're so smart. Like genius smart. How is it that an intelligent, attractive man like yourself doesn't have a girlfriend?"

Derek's eyes flickered up to hers from her sheet of equations and his brows furrowed suspiciously, green orbs steeling over. My reaction however, was that of dropping my forehead to Derek's desk with a low thud.

"I do-" His statement was cut off with a grunt in response to me kicking his shin under the desk. He shot me a glare as I looked up and gave him a pointed look. I had missed Miranda's reaction but I figured her smile had fallen at Derek's confession, judging by her renewed, forcibly curious grin.

"Really? And for a moment I thought-" She let her comment fall before she asked with rehabilitated vigor. "What's she like?

Derek was silent for a moment, and I could see the gears in his head whirring as if he were trying to choose his words. I was sure that he wasn't about to go into explicit detail about his girlfriend. Hell, I was sure that he was going to change the subject and hope that she got the hint to mind her own business. But I still nicked his shin again for good measure when he opened his mouth to answer.

Derek slowly turned his eyes on me with a look that read, 'Kick me again and I'll start kicking back.'

"She's somewhat of a pain in the ass." He grumbled, still glaring at me. This time, when my foot moved, his came down on mine and held it there, his brow lifting as if in challenge.

To be honest, though Miranda replied with a goodhearted laugh and something that sounded like 'Oh, I'm sure she's not that bad,' I didn't really hear her. And I was pretty sure Derek wasn't really paying much attention to her either. As his hard look softened a hint and a light of mischief touched his green eyes, it was as if I couldn't really see, hear, or feel anything other than him.

Derek's large foot shifted off of my smaller one, but it never broke contact. It was nothing like some cutsie game of footsie or anything like that. He just simply left it beside mine and the physical contact, though minor, triggered something in my brain and my insides squirmed with a strange sense of anticipation. I chalked it up for the fact that Derek and I hadn't exactly touched each other since he kissed my cheek nearly two weeks ago at the diner.

It was getting more and more clear with each passing day that Derek and I needed to find some time alone together. If it wasn't school or work getting in the way, it was Miranda during our designated study time, Derek's family or even my friends. Though, Liz clearly got the picture because she was well aware of the fine line that Derek and I had to walk. However, Nate was oblivious and was simply easing his way back into being just friends. I was sure that Derek had told Simon- if Simon hadn't guessed himself- what was going on between us, but Simon was also occupying a lot of Derek's time lately with matters Derek merely categorized as important family business.

At least I had the upcoming weekend to look forward to. I had done as Derek had requested and had taken the eighth off of work as well as the ninth. I was pretty certain that he was taking me on a date- the idea in itself making my insides flutter with eager excitement- but he refused to tell me what we were doing on every phone conversation when I tried to bother him about it. I even threatened that I might not be that interested in going if he didn't even drop a hint as to where we were going. He saw right through that little fib and wasn't going to break. So I settled for sulking over it.

He did mention that I shouldn't really bother trying to dress up or anything like that, though, and I was introduced to the fact that Derek wasn't exactly a blunt man by choice, so to say. It was just his nature, like he was unaware of how his words would affect someone or how they would take it. Luckily, I just figured he meant that he wasn't going to drag me to some fancy restaurant or dinner on a yacht like you see in the movies. As if I wasn't already anticipating the date enough as it was. Now I was really stumped as to what Derek had in mind.

When Friday night came, I still had a bit of a struggle picking something to wear that wasn't the nicest clothes that I owned. I mean, I was so use to the whole 'dressing to impress' idea when it came to a first date after my minimal amount of such during high school. But then I had to remind myself that I didn't really need to impress Derek. Or that it was necessarily a first date. He already seemed interested in me seeing as how we've been 'dating' for the past three weeks and we had basically built up to a the moment of our first kiss over a couple months, so, this shouldn't have been as big a deal as my brain was making it.

I was ever grateful that I had Liz there to help me out.

"I'd just go with what you normally wear, Chloe. He specifically said not to dress fancy, so, don't. But you don't want to look like a slob either." She added as she shuffled through my closet. "So you're everyday look would be more than fitting, don't you think?"

"Yeah, but my normal look is a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. That doesn't exactly catch his eye and make him think 'Wow. My girlfriend looks stunning tonight.'" I stated offhandedly, sitting cross-legged on my bed as I watched her shuffle through my shirts.

Liz laughed in a way that clearly expressed that she thought I was being silly. I didn't feel that way, though. I felt unsure. Again, this all shouldn't have been such a big deal, but I was so concerned about keeping Derek interested in me that I was worrying about things I never used to worry about. My appearance, for instance.

Perhaps Miranda's breathtaking presence was having a bigger effect on me than I thought.

"Chloe, relax. I'm sure Professor Souza almost worships the ground you walk on. At least, that's what Simon makes it sound like."

I blushed ferociously at the absurdity of her words, however, something about her comment diverted my attention.

"You talk to Simon?"

Liz beamed as she turned my direction, tossing me a deep, military green shirt that needed to be buttoned up and a light blue, V-neck t-shirt. She gestured for me to try them on before she answered my question.

"Yeah. When we left the diner the day he was there he offered to walk me to my car. But, as you know, I don't have one so I said I'd be happy if he walked me to my dorm instead and he did!" Liz squealed excitedly. "It's a bit of a walk so he asked me all these questions about myself and I thought he was just trying to be nice, you know? But then he said he thought I was funny and interesting so I gave him my number. We've been texting back and forth like nonstop. I can't believe I forgot to tell you this."

Liz bounced onto my bed as she gushed and I couldn't help the smile creeping onto my face at her apparent giddiness. I couldn't think of two people more right to meet each other than Simon and Liz. He was friendly, charming and sweet. Everything Liz herself was and deserved.

"So you like him then?" I asked, turning in front of the mirror as I looked at the blue top I had just tried on. I scrunched up my nose, not entirely fond of it.

"I don't know yet." She answered honestly, her tone dying down. "I mean, Peter and I did break up like right after I met Simon and I don't want to jump into an all new relationship just because he's nice, you know?"

I nodded as I buttoned up the green top, liking it more than the blue one before I even had it all the way on.

"That makes sense. But that doesn't mean you should push him away, Liz. Look at what you told me about Derek. Despite the impossibility of it, we're together because I went for it, just like you told me to. Maybe you should take your own advice."

"Yeah, you're right. But, I'm just going to give it a little bit of time. Maybe it's time that I let the guy make the first move."

I shrugged, accepting that Liz was done with the conversation. Usually, if she was the one closing something, that meant she didn't want to harp or dwell on it so that she could clearly think of a good solution or answer to her own questions. Nate was the same about these things in a way. I guess now I know that the reason he always seemed hesitant whenever I brought up girls was because he was interested in me. For Liz, it just seemed like she didn't want to feel as if she were moving on from Peter too quickly.

Liz agreed that the green top was better than the blue one but still suitable to Derek's suggestion. For the next half an hour we talked about things that might happen tonight, but Liz mostly expressed all that typical first date stuff and I was still sure that it wouldn't be anything like that. All I really wanted was to spend some time with him, talk to him like we did before break and my final for last term. Hell, I even wanted to kiss him again, even if it was nothing more than a small peck. We might see each other almost every day, but it felt like we hadn't really been around each other for a couple weeks.

When seven o'clock that evening rolled around, Liz left my dorm and I grabbed my lightweight jacket and keys, making my way out of my room myself. Derek had thought about picking me up, however, it wouldn't really look good if anyone on campus saw a fellow student climbing into one of the Professor's cars. So he gave me directions to his apartment about an eleven minute drive away somewhere on W 66th street. Something about the street number nagged at my memory but I placed that thought on the back burner and followed Derek's -rather intricate, might I add- directions.

It wasn't until I pulled onto 66th that I realized exactly where in the city I was. Derek lived southeast of Lincoln Square, meaning he was only a handful of minutes away from Juilliard.

I noticed the address of the apartment complex and pulled into the parking lot. It was nothing fancy, but it wasn't anything dingy either. It seemed homey, the building being a large one, giving off the essence that the apartments inside were well spaced between each other as well as the apartments themselves. It was nice.

I spotted Derek's dark car before I noticed him. It was funny how I could hardly remember the one time I had been in it and could easily pick it out in a crowded parking lot. Derek was leaning against the driver's side door, eyes trained somewhere across the street. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans, much like he wore every day and a rather form fitting plain, gray t-shirt. Though I had seen him in less formal attire before, this was probably the most dressed down I had seen him. Maybe because whenever he came into the diner he was wearing a jacket due to the fact that it was still winter. For early February, though, it was surprisingly warm so his attire was fitting. Not only that, I actually enjoyed seeing Derek like this. Sure, he looked nice in his dress shirts but, I liked the idea more of going on a date with Derek and not Professor Souza.

I pulled into the parking space on the left side of Derek's car, smiling when his eyes bounced in my direction as my intrusion pulled him from his thoughts. His lips quirked and he gestured towards his own car, beckoning me to get in. I shook my head and rolled down the front passenger window.

"I don't mind taking my car." I told him over the rattle of the old thing. "I wouldn't want you to waste any gas."

He leaned in, arm resting on the top of my car as he bent forward to address me.

"You don't even know where we're going."

"You can give me directions." I said with a roll of my eyes.

"Chloe-" He started, ready for an argument before I interrupted.

"Really, it's fine. Just get in already."

Derek rolled his eyes and straightened. He mumbled a quick 'Fine,' though he turned and started making his way around the front of my car. My brows furrowed as I watched him, confused by the fact that he agreed but still refused to get in. When he made it to my door I blanched as he opened it.

"What're you-"

Derek bent over and reached in past me, his fingers finding my keys and pulling them out of the ignition.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, still bewildered.

He then reached for my seat belt and undid it before grabbing my hand and tugging me out of my car as I protested. When we were both upright and Derek had shut the car door while prodding me in the direction of his, I threw a glare back at him.

"Do you have some sort of need to be in control?"

Derek smirked.

"Something like that."

He led me over to the shotgun seat of his car and even held the door open for me like a gentlemen. I wasn't having it. I huffed and remained rooted to my spot until he became impatient- which didn't take very long- and muttered "Would you stop being so difficult, Chloe."

I wasn't really the one being difficult here. We seriously could have taken my car and that would have been that. But I had to remind myself that this was Derek's thing, his date that he initiated and I might as well go with it and be cooperative.

But not without throwing in my own jab first, just because I had come to learn that it was almost fun to get that 'I don't really appreciate that' reaction out of him. He teased me occasionally, so why couldn't I have a little fun?

"You know, this can be classified as kidnapping." I said evenly.

Instead of getting the disapproving look that I was expecting, I got one that almost seemed like he was about to say, 'I'm going to leave without you.' I laughed and finally got into his car, a mixed smell of a typically clean vehicle and a hint of his own scent filling my nostrils as I did. Again, it was familiar despite my lack of memory from New Year's Eve.

When Derek pulled out of the driveway, I remembered my little discovery and said, "You never told me you lived a few blocks from campus."

"I don't," He rumbled, confused. "Campus is ten minutes back where you came from."

"No, I don't mean the University campus. I mean Juilliard." I explained gesturing in the general direction of the school. Realization dawned on his expression.

"Yeah, Simon and I played for which school we'd live closer to when we were picking out a place to stay since I work at NYU and he's over here."

"Played?" I asked. Derek shrugged.

"Rock, paper, scissors."

I raised my eyebrows and when he caught my expression he straightened somewhat and set his eyes back on the road self-consciously.

"Shut up." He grumbled. I resisted the urge to giggle and we fell into a comfortable silence as he pulled onto a bustling, Friday night highway. I wanted to ask where we were going- for the millionth time- but I knew the effort would be fruitless so I settled on eagerly anticipating our destination.

Though I lived in the city for the past couple of years, I never really spent too much time outside campus other than working at the diner. I spent a lot of time focusing on my studies knowing I'd have time to explore during my final two years of college when I expected to be taking a significantly lesser amount of credits. Because of that, despite trying to recognize any specific landmarks, I had no idea where Derek was taking me. We probably drove for about fifteen minutes on a route I wouldn't be able to copy, let alone even remember, when Derek spoke up and told me to open up his glove box.

I did as he said and found a maintenance manual for his car as well as a black scarf.

"You're going to have to put that on." Derek said, nodding at the small, dark cloth. I gave him a questioning look, not really understanding why he wanted me to wear a scarf. It was relatively decent weather for a February evening and I didn't really see the necessity of it. But then Derek added, "To cover your eyes."

"You're kidding," I muttered, eyebrows shooting up. He expected me to blindfold myself?

Derek turned his eyes on me and they were alight with an eager excitement that I wasn't sure I had seen before. He looked like a twelve year old about to visit an amusement park and I almost felt guilty for denying him of that fun. Whatever he had planned for me, he was clearly very zealous about it and I wasn't about to ruin his surprise with questions.

"Alright, I'm trusting you." I sighed before blinding myself with the scarf and tying it into place. The last thing I saw was the curve of Derek's lips and the flash of his white teeth as he smiled.

After what seemed like another five minutes, the car slowed. Derek veered to the left and the car came to a stop. I could only assume that he was parking and I was proven correct by the sound of the motor dying.

"Stay there." Derek's voice rumbled. "I'll come around to get you."

I agreed, feeling around for my seatbelt and clicking it undone. Derek was on my side in a matter of seconds and he opened the door for me and took my hand in his, helping me out of the car. To say the least, it was much gentler this time around than when we had argued over who was driving.

"You okay?" He asked once I was out, surely just checking to make sure I was still comfortable with the whole 'blind and unaware as to where the hell I was' idea. I nodded, unable to fight a smile.

"Just a little bit longer." Derek whispered, his warm fingers lacing in between mine and sending a zing through the length of my arm.

Derek guided me with his grip and his voice, slowly easing me through what I believed to be the parking lot until he stopped for a moment and there was the sound of keys clinking together. A door was opened and Derek ushered me through it. If I thought I was dying of anticipation before…

After a couple more minutes of turns and reassurances from Derek that we were almost there, there was the sound of another door opening and we walked through. Then Derek turned me to the right where we went forward a few steps more before he mentioned that there was a small ledge to step up onto on the left. I did and my foot came down on… dirt? Derek continued to pull me along as I listened and felt dirt crunching beneath my feet, completely out of guesses as to where we were at this point.

"Derek-"

"Almost, Chloe. Just a few more steps."

Not even a second after he said that, the terrain beneath my sneakers unexpectedly changed. I hesitated only a little as I felt something rough with texture underfoot, as if I were walking on really course carped.

What the…

And then, Derek stopped. I glanced up in his direction, or at least made the motion to if I could see. Were we there? The question was on my lips as Derek moved behind me, releasing my hand. There were a few tugs on the scarf substituting as a blindfold as he undid a knot and I felt my heart stagger impatiently. I held in a breath as the grip of the cloth loosened around my temple.

"Ready?" He murmured, leaning into my ear. He held the scarf over my eyes, awaiting my answer. All he had to do was let go of it.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

The fabric fell and my eyes snapped open. Suddenly, that air I had been holding in my lungs was whipped from them in a quick _whoosh_ as the site rendered me utterly stupefied.

"Oh my God…"

**Have I ever mentioned that I have a serious love/hate relationship with cliffhangers? **

**Anyways, where do you guys think Derek took her? Please leave lots of reviews and I'll try my damned hardest to update as soon as possible. Though, I do have the majority of next week off- hint, hint-**

**Hope you guys will be eager to see where they wound up. Until then, have a beautiful day!**


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